


Memories of a Dragon

by Anilyan



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Animal Death, Decapitation, Developing Relationship, Dragons, Epic, Fantasy, Friendship, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Racism, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Relationship anarchism, Two Dragonborns, and now trigger warnings, art and screenshots to help you visualize, discussions related to asexuality and aromanticism, i'll try to develop more all npcs, i'll try to keep it lore friendly, mentions of non-consensual relationship, my talos dragonborn has no memories and is half altmer half nord, non-binary dovahkiin, read the notes, since im trying to use dialogue from the game, sometimes, the other dragonborn will be centered in the college of winterhold questline, this is a very long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 96,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23186260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anilyan/pseuds/Anilyan
Summary: When Talos woke up at Helgen, ligned up to be executed, they didn't even know their name. Having only escaped thanks to the attack of a dragon, they were pushed into a world they have no memories of, into doing favors and being acclaimed as a hero for the people of Skyrim, plunged in the midst of a Civil War born of religious intolerance and returned with racism. In this cold land of hatred, however, our hero is determined to choose their own name and path, and to find their memories, all kinds of love and reasons worth living for... Reasons that would make Skyrim a land worth fighting for.
Relationships: Aela the Huntress/Lydia, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Karita, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Onmund, Poliamorous family
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Waking up

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quite self-indulging fanfic, where I can write the “perfect” epic story:  
> \- As inspired by mods as I want (I use some mods on ps4, but there are limitations, and my pc can’t even stand the vanilla game), where I mix which parts of each mod I want OR imagine my own mods.  
> \- With additional mechanics no mod can probably introduce, or “those things we all imagine our characters doing even if they are impossible in the game, even with many immersion mods”  
> \- Some things that go against the lore are true here, for the purpose of the fic  
> \- Some fan theories will also be canon in this fic  
> \- Battles will be more epic than those in-game, specially the fight against alduin, miraak and Ulfric.
> 
> My main Dragonborn Talos is non-binary (they/them pronouns despite the misgendering from other characters, assigned female at birth, and their gender will be explored). They are also an half-breed: half nord and half high-elf, partly because that’s the typical combination everyone does to mix two beauty stereotypes, and partly because it’s the most ironic combination possible given the war in Skyrim. This is a concept art for my character [www]. They have no memories of their past, are a relationship anarchist, and starts their journey at Helgen, following closely many of the events and questlines in Skyrim. 
> 
> I will have my second dragonborn appear as well, Chronus, a Breton woman who has lived in Riverwood (Anise is her aunt) and doesn’t understand her own connection with magic, animals, and the reason she has horns. She will journey to the College of Winterhold and she will be the one doing its quest and becoming arch-mage. 
> 
> Their paths will, of course, intersect. And Miraak will have a huge role as well, despite his late appearance. As I said, this is supposed to be an epic, in every sense possible, including the size of my fic – if you want something that can be read quickly or with a romance that escalates in the first chapters, I don’t recommend it – and will cover several years of the life of my dovah, plus an epilogue. I also want it to be enjoyable by people who don’t play the games but like fantasy and this kind of setting, therefore I will rewrite many things – dialogue, events… even describe the places – that appear in-game. That may be boring for some people who already played it several times, but I think it will add either to the epicness, or to the characterization. 
> 
> You may also be interested in what characters will be most developed. They will be my 2 dragonborns, Miraak, Serana, Lydia, Marcurio and the bard Karita. But I will try to expand on the lore of most NPCs. 
> 
> Each chapter will have images/links of how I imagine the places and additional armors/weapons mentioned in my story, taken from mods (with the proper credits), my drawings… or my creations in the Sims xD 
> 
> Finally, keep in mind that I’m from Portugal and therefore English is not my native language. Feel free to tell me if you notice any mistake or confusing passage, as I’ll fix it as soon as I’m told. I also use “-“ to initiate dialog, reserving quotation marks for thoughts, since that’s the standard here. 
> 
> Chapter Notes: The initial scene incorporates things that were supposed to happen in the ame but were changed, restored by this mod [https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/77027/] – check it on youtube if you want to see the differences for yourself. I tried to mix what was intended originally with the end result.

The same rocking that had been keeping me in the paws of sleep started to become progressively more persistent, and I couldn’t help but come to my senses. “We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief”, I heard a masculine voice saying, followed by someone shouting to shut up. The noises previously relaxing were too loud – voices, horses, and the weight of a wagon being driven along a badly polished road, in jolts – and light found a way under my eyelids. I groaned. I blinked, twice, to disperse the fogginess of my vision, as if it hasn’t been used for a while. I saw one man inclined close to me and two others. One of them, dressed in finery, was gagged, and that called my attention to the uncomfortable ropes bounding my hands in front of me. We were all bound. We were… prisoners. 

I took some time making sense of the words the closest man, blond with a blue band covering his chainmail across the chest, was throwing at me:

\- Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.   
What border? Where was I? I could only see the road, tall bushes in patches that weren’t covered by snow, pine trees, and mountains hidden in the cloudy weather. Then, I shivered, realizing that an even more important piece of information was missing: Who was I?

\- Damn you, Stormcloaks – Cursed the second man, dressed in rags - Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there – He looked at me like someone looking for support – You and me… We shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants. 

\- Everyone in Skyrim is part of this rebellion, thief. Some of us just assume our responsibility – Retorted the first man.

\- Shut up back there! This is the last warning! – Shouted the soldier driving our wagon. An Imperial soldier, I guessed.

The petty fight ceased for a while. The second man, the thief, was staring furiously at the gagged man. He couldn’t resist a comment:

\- And what’s wrong with him?

\- Watch your tongue! – Advised the Stormcloak – You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the True High King - Neither the name nor the title meant anything to me, but it clearly impressed the thief, judging for the way he paled.

\- U-Ulfric…? The Jarl of Windhelm, who used the voice to murder High King Toryyg? You’re the leader of the rebellion! – He exclaimed, turning again to the gagged noble, now with his expression distorted by rage - You traitor, you’re the reason we’re here! But if they captured you… Oh, gods, where are they taking us? 

\- I don’t know where we are going, but at least Sovengard will be waiting for us. Our ancestors. Feasting. Mead. 

\- No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening…

The first man decided to ignore the fear of the other and directed his next question to me:

\- Hey, what village are you from? – The thief saved me from answering with is impatience and frustration.

\- Why do you care?

\- A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home. What about you, horse thief?

The thief blinked.

\- Rorikstead. I’m… I’m from Rorikstead. 

\- There won’t be any holds once the Empire has its way, you know? – The Stormcloak was speaking in the same tone people use to explain something to a child, with the same nostalgia and patience before their innocence - No Jarls to rule over them. Just legion soldiers and martial law – This was starting to become too much information for me to process, but at least now I was being ignored. Jarls? Holds? None of those things stroke me as familiar – Every man, woman and child in Skyrim is part of this rebellion, like I told you. Everyone has to fight for the freedom of the nine Holds.  
A part of me weakly struggled against the idea that “man, woman and child” included everyone, but the sunlight reflected by the snow was blinding, and all I wanted was to be able to rub my eyes.

\- “Freedom of the nine Holds”? I don’t remember the Empire sweeping up every cutpurse in Skyrim, before you bastards started butchering their soldiers.

We were approaching a border of stone, with wood gates large enough to let the carriage through. A soldier called out to the lead horse, mounted by an almost-bald man that even fron this distance I discerned that was dressed in a distinct armor from the Imperials around us:

\- General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!

\- Good. Let’s get this over with – Said General couldn’t sound more bored, as if the prospect of more deaths were a daily occurrence to him. The reaction of the thief was almost the opposite, murmuring quickly under his breath.

\- Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me…

The gates opened to a village.

\- Look at him. General Tullius, the Military Governor – Was Stormcloak prisoner saying, looking at the figurehead – And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this – His voice trembled with hate and despise, and yet, didn’t even get close to the disdain in the voice of a tall yellowish humanoid with pointed ears, sat regally on a horse, directed at what the prisoners regarded as the General. In fact, the General started apologizing to that figure, but maintaining his stance.

\- I’m sorry, that’s just not possible. It would cause far too many problems.

The yellowish figure sat even straighter:

\- You’re making a terrible mistake! Your Emperor will hear of this! By the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, I operate with full Imperial authority! – The outrage made her voice crack.

\- Ugh, Thalmor bitch – Insulted my blond companion. 

We turned left, in the opposite direction of those two figures. A child on our path was barely able to get out of the way of the horse, running to his parents at the doorstep.

\- This is Helgen… - Nostalgia was creeping on the Stormcloak voice - I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny… when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe. 

The running child and his dad were watching the prisoners being brought to the village. 

\- Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?  
\- You need to get inside, little cub – Explained the dad.  
\- Why? I want to watch the soldiers.  
\- Inside the house. Now.   
\- Yes, papa…

I understood the motivations of the father. He didn’t want his son to see men – and me, who didn’t exactly see myself as anything despite my clearly female body – being decapitated. I could already see the block and the headsman near a tower. The carriage driver pulled the reins, stopped the horses and was immediately approached by a captain, a woman with a scarred face and the air of someone used to being obeyed:

\- Get the prisoners out of the cart!

My “brothers in binds” were discussing again, and again the thief initiated. 

\- Why are we stopping?

\- Why do you think? End of the line – The Stormcloak stood up – Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep the gods waiting for us. 

\- Wait, no! We’re not rebels!

\- Face your death with some courage, thief – The despise of the Stormcloak fired the man’s fear even more, wide-eyed.

\- You’ve got to tell them we weren’t with you! This is a mistake! 

Ignoring all of that, the captain announced: 

\- Shut up! Out of the Cart, now! 

She didn’t need to say twice, Ulfric was already in the ground before any of us. But the captain had further instructions:

\- Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time. 

\- The Empire loves their damned lists… - Grumbled the Stormcloak between his teeth. For my part, I almost felt relieved. At least, I would know my name before dying. 

A man called the first name.

\- Ulfric Stromcloak, Jarl of Windhelm. Guilty of murder, high treason and sentenced to death.

The man never showed fear, I would give him that. As he stood, like he had all the time in the world, he accepted the mixed looks he received as both an honor and a burden. I could almost feel the sustained breaths, as if the death of that man should be able to change the course of the very world. He finally started moving towards the block, head high, straight back, calm pacing, never breaking the spell. The other bound Stormcloak met his gaze for a second, and I heard him saying “It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric.”

The Imperial continued calling names, finally telling me who my companions were. His eyes lingered for a few seconds on the blond man at my side, regarding him sternly, something surely born of recognition.

\- Ralof of Riverwood – He finally said, and Ralof moved forward, while adding to his own name “Proud son of Skyrim” - Stormcloak. Sentenced to death – Then, looking at the horse thief, - Lokir of Rorikstead.

And that was enough to break the spell. 

\- No! – Screamed the thief, panicking – I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this! - He starts running in the opposite direction of the block, while still screaming variations of “You’re not going to kill me!”

\- Archers! Archers! – Ordered the captain.

An arrow on the knee was enough to take him down. If he was going to be killed with other arrows or in the block, I didn’t know. The captain glared at the rest of the prisoners.

\- Anyone else feels like running?

Not that our faces weren’t answer enough, but the man announcing the names interrupted the scene when he noticed me.

\- Wait… you there. Step forward. – So I did – You’re not with the Thalmor embassy, are you, high elf? No, that can’t be right, and up close you actually almost look like a… a Nord. Captain, what should we do? She is not on the list.

\- Forget the list. She goes straight to the block. 

\- By your orders, Captain – He spared a glance at me, almost regretful – I’m sorry. I’ll make sure your remains get returned to your people. Follow the captain, prisoner. 

As I obeyed, I couldn’t really forgive that man. He couldn’t even give me my name. I stood next to Ralof, and General Tullius stepped up to Ulfric, to give a speech.

\- Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp the throne. – Ulfric looked so amused even with the bind, that I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw him roll his eyes. But the General didn’t stop to laugh with him – You started this war, flung Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace! 

A roar echoed from the mountains, making even the General look alarmed for an instant. The man that read the names was the first to speak out what everyone was thinking. 

\- What was that?

\- It’s nothing – Dismissed the General, even though the question wasn’t directed to him. – Carry on - He gestured to a woman covered in a tunic, and she advanced – Give them their last rights.

A priest. She started reciting:

\- As we command your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the 8 Divines upon you…

A Stormcloak soldier didn’t even let her finish the sentence.

\- For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with – He marched forward, clearly disturbing the priestess, who murmured a lost “As you wish...” - Come on! I haven’t got all morning! – The soldier roared ironically. He knelt at the block, looking at the Captain besides the Headsman – My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?

Suddenly, the Captain stepped on his back and the Headsman beheaded him as a response. The head rolled on the filth as the body was shoved to the side. 

\- Your Imperial bastards! – Screamed a Stormcloak, met with opposition from the townsfolk screaming for justice.

\- As fearless in death as he was in life – Praised Ralof, his voice lost between the tumult.

\- Next, the elf! – Called the Captain. But only the roar was heard over the screams, shutting everyone for a few seconds.

\- There it is… - Repeated the Imperial who read the names, to no one in specific – Did you hear that?

\- I said… Next. Prisoner. – Repeated the Captain. 

An imperial soldier urged me forward. 

\- To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy. 

I moved, as steady as I could, and kneeled in an uncomfortable position, placing my head in the cold block with hot spots from the blood of the Stormcloaks. I couldn’t help but smile at the persistent thought that insisted this discomfort wouldn’t last for long. 

The Headsman swung the axe above his head. It was the end.

In the exact moment he was starting to descend the axe, the roar started again, louder than ever. And after a sound similar to fabric rustling in the wind… a giant shadow crossed the skies.

\- What in Oblivion is that?! – Screamed the name’s announcer.   
\- Sentries, what do you see? – Demanded the captain.  
\- It’s in the clouds…!

As soon as the soldiers saw it again, it descended upon us and landed on top of the tower in front of me, which almost crumbled with the weight. The townsfolk started running and even the closed doors were burst ajar, when the sight of that monster reached them. No Headsman, no Captain, could stay close to me when it spit fire in the direction of the block, and I stepped back as fast as my bound writs allowed me. The Headsman was not fast enough. I could almost hear words in the shout of the dragon, could almost make sense of it, and when the Headsman’s body was thrown in the air, dead, I didn’t even feel surprised. 

\- A dragon?! It’s a dragon, Gods help us!  
\- It’s the end times! The end times have come!  
\- Divines help us!

General Tullius was the first to recover from the shock.

\- Don’t just stand there! – He screamed the order – Guards, get the townspeople to safety! Someone get the battlemages out here, now!

No one seemed to remember me anymore. Except for Ralof. 

\- Come on! The Gods won’t give us another chance! This way! – He somehow managed to find a dagger to cut the ropes, but didn’t offer to cut mine, and just grabbed my arm to pull me towards another tower. Two of the other present Stormcloaks were hurt, and one had his hair and face burned. Their leader was also there – Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? –Asked Ralof while unbinding the Jarl – Could the legends be true?

Ulfric spat the gag.

\- Legends don’t burn down villages. Ah, but I’m glad you’re alive!

I didn’t know what to do of the first sentence I heard from his mouth, but it wasn’t the right time to think about such things. Ulfric put it better:

\- Well, friend – He told me – I’d ask you to join the rebellion, but I think we’re all a bit busy staying alive. We need to move, now!

We were stumbling up the staircase, yet the way to the top was blocked with rocks fallen from the wall, a huge hole where at least two men could stand side by side. Or where a dragon could put is head. The dark dragon just burst him, spitting fire and killing another of my companions, one of the hurt ones, not even caring about eating the body or having any kind of purpose for it. The monster just went away to bring destruction to another part of the village. Ralof was breathing heavily, and I too wished to be able to wipe the sweat from my brow. Ralof called my attention, pointing   
– See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going. We’ll follow when we can!

So I did.

Helgen had changed in the space of minutes. Most buildings were destroyed or burning. I accidentally run into Imperial soldiers, and found the man charged with announcing the prisoner’s names, screaming to his friends.

\- Haming, you need to get over here, now! 

\- Torolf! – Screamed another, looking at a man curled in the ground. A kid ran to that man. The kid from before…

\- Get up, papa! Get up!

I gulped. Even behind cover, the faint voice reached my ears:

\- I’m done for, little cub. Go. Run for it!

\- What are you doing?! Get off the road! – Despaired the men. The boy stood up, but still couldn’t move away from his father.

\- That’s it, son. Make me proud.

\- Gods… Everyone, get back!

The boy finally ran to join the soldiers under cover.

The dragon was flying in our direction, and now I was sure I could make out words as he made fire rain: “Yol…Toor…Shull!” Torolf was incinerated instantly. The boy didn’t stop looking at his father for even a second, his horror and courage moving.

The name’s soldier was talking to the boy, “You’re doing great, kid”, but it wasn’t enough. He noticed me again, blinking when he realized I had witnessed that death.

\- Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense. 

\- Gods guide you, Hadvar – Were Gunnar parting words to the man. So that was his name…

The dragon landed on the wall above me, and Hadvar started to lead me towards the Keep. But at the entrance, Ralof caught up with us. So did General Tullius, and the fire.

\- Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we’re leaving! – Screamed the General, more a desperate request than an order. 

Hadvar turned to me.

\- It’s you and me, prisoner. Stay close! - I looked behind one last time, but even the General instigated me to run and I approached the keep. Ralof was at the door already, and I was sure he only avoided a fight with Hadvar because a dagger was his only weapon. 

\- Ralof! Your damned traitor… Out of my way!

\- We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time.

\- Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde – Hadvar spat, sending a last look to me. 

\- You! Come on, into the keep!

The Stormcloak didn’t give me much time for indecision. As I was closing the door behind me, the dragon tossed an Imperial alive in the air to crash when hitting the floor, and I heard the beast say something that sent a shiver up my spine: “Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki!” “Your soul will feed my hunger!”

As soon as we entered – with Hadvar nowhere to be seen – we found a dead body with a Stormcloak uniform. Ralof was solemn for a time.

\- We’ll meet again in Sovngard, brother – He closed the dead man’s eyes. Turning then to me with the dagger on his left hand: – Looks like we’re the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon, no doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends… The harbingers of the End Times – He shook his head – We should keep moving. Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off - Ralof freed me of the bindings, and instructed me to put on the man’s gears. He called the body Gunjar. He turned to examine the doors while I dressed, though I couldn’t say if it was from decency or purely to speed up the process. We had reached a dead-end – one of the doors was locked and the gate could only be opened by a lever on the other side, that none of us could reach. 

\- What now? – I asked. My voice felt rusted from lack of use – Do you think we can break it, or pick it?

\- Doubt it. We could also exit again, since the dragon will probably leave the village sooner or later, but I don’t want to risk the odds of our survival until that point…

But our odds were good. The Captain of the executions and another soldier were opening the gate from the other side and didn’t even see us until it was halfway open, shouting something about Stormcloak prisoners as if they were more certain I was a Stormcloak than myself. I haven’t even realized I had taken Gunjar’s sword – it rested in my hand with a certain familiarity, as if I had held a weapon before, even though it was rusty and dirty. We killed them quickly. My initial strokes were a little hasty and I believe I cut more the air than my foes, but some glances stolen from the way Ralof fought were enough to understand what was wrong with my posture, and fixing it did miracles. 

“My first kills”. At least, the first I had memories of. I shuddered, and started to take the Captain’s Imperial Armor out – heavier than my current set, but it also offered more protection – and found a key by accident. 

\- A key? – Ralof asked behind me – Give it to me, it may open the other door. 

I turned my back to him to equip while he fumbled with the lock. It opened. 

The next pair of hours were hard to describe. We walked down the hallway until the ceiling started to fall, forcing us to divert through a side door and finding a storeroom with two more Imperials we fought for the supplies. We found some hard bread, a half drunk tankard that I quickly emptied, with my thirst speaking louder than my distaste for the drink, an healing potion, some rocky green eggs… Not much later, we crossed a torture chamber and along with other Stormcloaks already there, were able to kill the rest of the Imperials. From their conversation, I understood that those tortures were ordered by the Empire, and that Jarl Ulfric hasn’t been seen again. We all tried to open the cell of a dead mage for his money – turns out I had beginner’s luck - and I decided to fold his blue robes together with the Stormcloak fabric inside my armor, since they were light and could be useful later as a disguise or to make my alliances clearer. I also took the spell book with me, and some of the other books I shoved on a knapsack. I would have probably need to abandon them, but there was so much I needed to learn about this world and one of the books even spoke about its holds, so it seemed useful. I also took the steel dagger from the torturer and gold coins. The skeletons we found on some cells were richer than me, a mistake I fixed by picking the locks of their cages and taking their money. By the time I was finished, I had to run with all this weight to catch up with the others, at the entrance of a natural cave. 

We fought more imperials, the other Stormcloaks wished me and Ralof good luck while they decided to wait for Jarl Ulfric, and we proceeded through a drawbridge, destroyed by whatever the dragon did on the surface as soon as I reached the other side. We fought giant spiders and saw a desiccated corpse hanging in the thick webs, got our feet soaked in the water, and sneaked under the nose of a bear. It was like walking in a dream. A dream where you never know what is real, when it will disappear or turn into another thing, and if any decision you could possibly make is right. Yet, we proceeded through the cave until the end, and left it more skilled and richer than we started – I even had a horned helmet, and a bottle of good mead, “Black-Briar” or something. When I could see the sky again, I saw the dragon flying overhead, away from us. 

It was the end of the dream.

For better or worse, the rest was reality.


	2. Too many promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I envision Riverwood like a mix between 2 mods, mostly like the Riverwood of Kato [https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/7031] , but with details like the beehives and the hill of this one [https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/83594/]

The world was big and made me feel insignificant. Ralof kept saying he was going to his sister Gerdur, in Riverhood, and I tried to ask to accompany him without showing I didn’t know the way to Riverhood – therefore, his insistence that I would be welcomed there later didn’t serve as much. I had to get there now. And with so many possible paths I could take, I preferred to stuck with my guide for a while. 

Not that I didn’t feel all those paths calling for me. I really did. I just wasn’t in a position to reach safely for them yet. 

So we traveled, me with my bundle and weapons (a sword, a steel dagger, a bow and arrows on my back and, well, some of those books were so heavy that they could certainly hurt if thrown at someone). Food, not so much. But at least we could share the mead and, after getting closer to Riverhood, well, the river helped to settle our thirst. For a moment, my reflection on the water had me mesmerized – I didn’t know what to expect previously to that moment, and to look at that person and know it was me was truly strange. I liked my face, but also thought I understood the Imperial naming man’s confusion: I could almost be a parent to Ralof, for the square tough angles of my face even if elongated, and the thick eyebrows. But while his eyebrows were blonde, mine were a light copper tone, and my hair was entirely shaved, revealing slightly pointed ears and exposing my oddly rotated eyes, whose pupil and golden íris were bigger and differently-shaped. My skin had some yellowish reflexes, and where I expected it to be redder, it had an aureate tone in the mix. 

The strange rocky formation on the horizon intrigued me, especially the giant triangular shapes on some of the mountains but, along the road, even flowers flourished. We saw some wild animals, like deers and rabbits, and I even managed to bring a slower one down – not with my bow, oh no. With a rock first, to hurt him despite it hurting my heart as well, and only then he was slow enough for me to kill it. I didn’t want to get to Ralof’s house empty bellied and abuse their hospitality by finishing the reserves. We skinned it and managed to lit a small fire to cook the rabbit. 

I was starving, and used that moment of rest to bombard Ralof with more questions. More, because I had already pestered him with a lot, from important stuff to asking him about his reaction upon seeing the spiders before. “I hate those damn things. Too many eyes, you know?” Oh, right. The eyes were clearly the problem. I learned that Windhelm was where I could find Ulfric’s palace, and no, he couldn’t pull a dragon out of his pocket to help us escape without a shave from the Imperial headsman. Dragons hadn’t been seen in Skyrim – the land whose name was also written in one of the books – in centuries, but Ralof was sure that Jarl Ulfric would get to the bottom of it, find where it came from, how and why. He insisted – again – that I should join the Stormcloaks, because now I had seen the true face of the Empire and had my own score to settle with it. With that dragon, too.

\- Why were you being executed? – I asked. Ralof looked at me as if I was dumb.

\- Seriously, you don’t know? That was Ulfric Stormcloak himself.

\- Oh, right. Ulfric Stormcloak… - I tried to sound like I just remembered the relation and realized I was being stupid. Well, it probably had something to do with the fact they were Stormcloaks, but the conversation in the wagon was fuzzy in my head.

\- Riiight. The leader of our fight against the Empire. I forget that most people don’t know what he looks like, except for those Imperial wanted posters. 

\- And why do the Stormcloaks fight? – I straightened while cleaning my chin off the fat. 

\- To drive the Empire out of Skyrim, once and for all – He answered as if it was simple – The Nords are tired of spending our blood fighting the Empire’s wars, and paying for the Empire’s decadence with our taxes. We’re tired of being told what deities we can worship, and of being puppets for the Thalmor. Ulfric is our rightful High King, and he’s fighting for the Nords. 

\- Alright – I said, even if I didn’t know who were the Thalmor or anything about deities – but how did you end up as Imperial prisoners?

\- I was assigned to Ulfric’s guard. We were on our way to Darkwater Crossing, in the south of Eastmarch. The Imperials were waiting for us. As pretty an ambush as I ever saw… We were outnumbered five to one, at least, and Ulfric ordered us to stop fighting. Didn’t want us all to die for nothing, I guess. I thought they were taking us south to Cyrodill, to parade us in front of the Emperor, but then, we stopped at Helgen, and you know the rest. 

I was silent, revising the events of the day. I licked the fat off my fingers, wishing that there was more, and turned to Ralof again.

\- You really think I should join up with Ulfric Stormcloak?

\- Damn right. You don’t have to be a Nord to fight for Skyrim’s freedom – I was unsure if every Nord would feel that way, but maybe Skyrim was really an open-minded country – You should come to Windhelm with me and join the fight. If anyone will know what the coming of the dragon means, it’s Ulfric. 

\- How can I join?

\- In Windhelm’s palace, you will want to talk to Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric’s right-hand man. He handles the new recruits. I’ll be sure to put in a good word if I get to Windhelm ahead of you.

\- I’ll have to think about it.

\- Yeah, sure, I understand – He waved a hand – No need to decide now. But I know that after you think about what you saw today, you’ll realize that Skyrim deserves to be free. 

I was sure I would. But I still wanted to understand the price of such freedom, and the means each party would use to either obtain or refrain it. 

Not long after, we got on our way. Skyrim was apparently very dangerous at night, and it was already past midday. However, it didn't take long to reach Riverwood. The lumber mill of Ralof’s sister, so important to the hold that it attributed the family a role of leadership, was visible from afar, and the people buzzing the streets seemed welcoming, busy and small as ants by comparison. 

We made haste. The sun was almost hidden by the mountains when we reached the gates, if the wooden structure was deserving of such name. Only one guard supervised the entry, and beyond I saw a small forge and tiny wood houses among the flowers with plaques announcing they were also stores. Ralof made us turn right, and his fist vigorously met the door of the first house.

An intrigued woman, dark haired with gold reflexes, opened the door, and an incredulous smile spread over her face. 

\- Gerdur! - saluted Ralof, opening his arms.

\- Mara's mercy, is good to see you. But is it safe for you to be here?

\- Gerdur... - my friend started, still waiting to be hugged back

\- We heard that Ulfric had been captured...

\- Gerdur, I'm fine. At least now I am.

The sister sighed, and finally put her arms around his neck. Stepping back, she opened the door a bit more, but still not enough for us to enter, as if recent times had been teaching caution to these people. 

\- Are you hurt? What's happened? - She glanced at me - And who is this, a comrade? - Hard to believe when I was dressed as an Imperial captain, I suppose.

\- The armor is looted - I said in my defense. 

That soothed the tension on her brow. Ralof laughed.

\- Not a comrade yet, but a friend. I owe her my life, in fact - That addition surprised me, since I could say the same about him - Is there somewhere we could talk? There's no telling when news from Helgen will reach the Empire...

\- Helgen? Has something happened...? You're right. Follow me – She opened the door as wide as possible and rushed us him, turning to the mill, screaming - Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something.

A man, presumably her husband, straightened from behind a log and grunted. 

\- What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?

\- Hod – Gerdur was serious - Just come here.

Hod got closer and exclaimed:

\- Ralof! What are you doing here? Ah...I'll be right down! – Yeah, so much to be discrete… 

At almost the same time, a boy of around 12 appeared behind our backs.

\- Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak? – Those questions combined with the tight hug the kid gave my friend showed that hehasn’t visited his family in a long time, but that wasn’t enough to make Gerdur forget where the priorities laid. 

\- Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games. Go and watch the south road. Find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming.

\- Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with uncle Ralof!...

Ralof disheveled the boy.

\- Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself!

\- That's right! – Said the boy - Don't worry, uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!

Ralof’s eyes melted with pride, and Frodnar went to do his task. Hod finally came down from the mill, continuing the conversation. He met Ralof with a firm handshake. 

\- Now, Ralof, what's going on? You two look pretty well done in.

\- I can't remember the last time I slept – He agreed - Where to start? Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us outside Darkwater Crossing. Like they knew exactly where we'd be. That was...two days ago, now. We stopped at Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up for the headsman's block and ready to start chopping!

\- The cowards! – Protested Gerdur.

\- They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then! Treason, for fighting for your own people! – Ralof was equally sour - But then...out of nowhere...a dragon attacked.

Silence.

Gerdur dared to break it.

\- You don't mean a real, live...

\- I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there! As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?

\- Nobody has come up the south road today, as far as I know.

\- Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I'd hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but...

\- Nonsense – She hushed him just like she had done with her son - You and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need. Let me worry about the Imperials. – She turned to me, holding one of my hands between hers, smiling sweetly. In doing that, I could feel a hard object pressed against my palm - Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine. Here's the key to the house. Stay as long as you like, and feel free to take any supplies. 

\- Thanks, sister - Ralof spoke before me - I knew I could count on you.

\- Yes, thank you. I will try to not be inconvenient – I put my other hand on top of hers, to show my gratitude.

She shook her head.

\- There's something you can do for me. For all of us. We need to send word to Jarl Balgruuf to send whatever troops he can. Riverwood is defenseless. If you do that for me, I'll be in your debt.

It seemed a sensible request, and I agreed to go as soon as I could. She seemed to remember something, asking both of us.

\- I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric...?

\- Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak! – Ralof seemed overconfident, but honest. 

\- I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is – I took some time understanding that Hod referred to me, possible because with my hair shaved and the armor, he wasn’t sure about my sex. Judging by the familiarity with which Ralof moved around in the house, at least, he didn’t need a guide. I didn’t get why, but the pronoun felt like having a bell ringing in my head, both as alarm and as a festivity announcement. 

\- Hhmm. Help them drink up our mead, you mean – Gerdur snorted, and turned to Ralof again with kindness - Good luck, brother. I'll see you later.

\- Don't worry about me – He assured her - I know how to lay low.

So I ate with the family, we talked a little about this village and I spent the night with a proper roof above my head and covered by furs on the floor, since there weren’t enough beds. I woke up early the next morning to prepare myself for the day: I started by reading the book about the holds on my improvised bed, and read the entire passage about Whiterun. Then I put on a peasant tunic and leggings, spread butter and jam on the bread, and was still eating when I went outside. As I hoped, few people were awake at this hour, so I decided to take the opportunity to wash myself on the river a more hidden curve. When I started to explore the city, the cock had sing already, and I could hear the hammer of the blacksmith beating the metals, people discussing and some cats hissing at each other. Clothes were hanged in ropes between the houses, truly easy to steal if the people from here were given to that kind of behavior, and here and there some windows were thrown open to let in fresh hair. Some of the terrain closer to the back houses was farmed, one of the houses had beehives and another had chickens. I found myself entering the Sleeping Giant Inn.

It was a long corridor with some doors at the end, and in the center, it had a Nordic stone-fireplace built on the floor, with cooking pots hanging above. Several tables and barrels could be found around it, and even a table with some runes, strange flasks and containers with an emerald liquid. A bard was stroking some cords and a beggar was half-asleep on a chair. A woman in her 50’s greeted me from behind the counter.

\- We have warm food, warm drinks and warm beds. We don’t get a lot of travelers here in Riverwood.

\- Don’t you? – Was the attitude suspicious or just a statement of the obvious? I got close to her anyway.

\- The war keeps most folks away, these days. Most of my customers are locals, come to relax after a hard day’s toil. So, what’s your story?

\- I doubt you would believe it even if I told the truth… - I grumbled under my breath.

\- I’m sorry?

\- Oh, nothing special. I’m just on my way to visit Whiterun. Have family there, and with the… the war, and all, thought it couldn’t hurt to check on them.

\- I see. Are you from afar? 

\- Relatively. I’m from… Falkreath – I hoped to be pronouncing the name right.

\- You’re a daring adventurer if you traveled by night.

\- I didn’t, I spent the night here in a friendly house. Didn’t know there was an inn, and I’m trying to save my money anyway. – If I was feeling that more confident in my lies, the innkeeper ruined that confidence.

\- With the runaway Stormcloak, Ralof? You’ve been to Helgen, haven’t you?

I drank in dry. I should have asked for beer – at least that way I could have hidden my face behind the mug…

\- I passed close by, and saw a certain confusion there. Turns out we had to help to save each other's lives. Nothing special in the day-to-day on the roads of Skyrim.

\- If that’s how you see it… - She rolled her eyes, then decided to open the game a little – Look, I’m the innkeeper. It’s my business to keep track of strangers. I don’t care what political faction you side with, as long as you don’t bring trouble, and since Hilde has been telling everyone that she saw a dragon, I just thought you had better chances of knowing if that’s true.

\- It is – I simply stated. I expected either my attitude or the news to disturb her, but she just acquiesced to herself, as if she had already suspected. 

\- These are really hard times, then… Well, can I get you anything? If not, excuse me for a moment.

She disappeared for a while, and after talking to both the bard Sven and the drunk – I tried, at least, but in the end just gave him one coin because that and mead were the only thing he was able to talk about – and asked Orgnar, the other bartender, to get him a drink. The bard had made me deal with his love mess and revealed a shitty personality by asking me to deliver to his loved one a letter to lower her opinion of his rival - more precisely, a horrible letter signed as if it was written by Faendal. That, and the despise on his voice when mentioning that Faendal was a wood elf made me willing to find who Carmilla was and reveal the plan to her… until, on my touring of the village, I met the rival who asked to do exactly the same, except for the racism. Was Carmilla that desperate that she had to capture the love of equally low men? Really, I had to make her give up on both!

And I did. When I told the Riverwood Trader’s woman, the sister of the owner, the truth about her men, she was sad, frustrated, and angry, because thanks to their attitudes, she would not only lose her chance at love, but also two people she considered friends and who had always been good to her – just for their own interests. I assured her it would be alright and I would try to visit Riverwood to see her even if just as a friend, and somehow she thanked me by… well, by talking about all her other losses, including the theft of a golden claw that I ended up agreeing to retrieve. At least it made her happy, and her brother. So I promised myself I would make the preparations today, go tomorrow according to her directions, and after returning, go to Whiterun and do what Gerdur asked of me. 

The way the blacksmith forged his blades was fascinating – how could someone shape the metal so persistently? – and even if his blades were simple and crude, they seemed capable of getting the job done. He tired of my curiosity and offered to teach me, which I eagerly accepted – what better way to learn a trade and even gain muscles? His name was Alvor, and he was Hadvar’s uncle. I was happy to know the Imperial reached Riverwood and expressed so – after all, if he got here, he had probably told his uncle all about Helgen – and from the man’s reactions, he had spoken about me. Kindly enough, even if not sure of my innocence. After some questions about the trade, I learned it was enough for a “decent living”, and learned my way around the forge: how to turn leather into stripes, how to warm and shape metal… even made and refined my first dagger. Took me hours, but the blacksmith judged me fit for the job, and even suggested he could use an apprentice. Tempting, but I had to decline. I had already made too many promises in the space of a single day. But even after my arms were tired, I was able to give Hadvar a bear hug when I saw him leaving the house for Solitude, the headquarters of the Imperials, and wished him all the luck. He also seemed happy to know I didn’t hold a grudge against him, but how could I? I didn’t know which side of the war I would take, but the fact that the man was doing his job before didn’t justify him being roasted alive by a dragon. I resented him more for not knowing my name, actually. 

That night, I gave little Frodnar the first blade I forged and told the family of my plans during dinner. I prepared for the next day the Imperial armor (with the blue robe and the Stormcloak fabric still folded inside), the weapons I came here with, and only a small pouch of coins, just in case. It went without saying I wasn’t going to need money, nor my books, if I died on the travel, and I trusted the family to take care of my things. Also on my belt, a satchel with stones to lit a fire in case of need, the health potion and food: travel bread, cheese, some salted meat, mead and water. The ruins where the bandits took the claw weren’t far – by Camilla descriptions, there was a door under the triangular rocky shapes I saw on my way to here – so this should be more than enough. I read little before going to sleep, to not waste many candles, and went to sleep. My body was tired, so I surrendered quickly and slept well. 

I raised with the sun. Didn’t tell anyone goodbye before going on my way.


	3. The treasure of the dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talos starts to taste the life of a hero

My muscles were sore from smithing in the previous day, but my feet carried me quickly to near the Bleak Falls Temple. I had to admit that it was less welcoming after I knew what it actually was: an ancient Nordic Tomb, built to worship dragons. The triangular shapes were archways, typical of ancient Nord architecture, from what I had been told. 

On my way, I saw some strange round rocks taller than me, in a formation that seemed purposeful, and there was a hole on the central one, humming with a sort of magical light. Hesitantly, I placed a palm upon the stone, and couldn’t retrieve it anymore. My vision blurred. I could only see a bluish light reaching the skies, until I didn’t. When my normal vision was restored, I heard a kind of splash and everything was apparently back to normal. 

I found a hunter woman in the margin of the river and we shared what we had – I exchanged a bit of bread and cheese for cooked fish, and also cooked one of my salted loaves. The afternoon was just beginning, but I didn’t want to get my hopes high. I still had to find a way to reach the other side of the river and climb the rocks. The river had an area relatively shallow and, believing I could reach the bottom with my feet, I stripped and carried the bundle over my head, alternating the arm that secured it there to reduce the aching. The water was really cold and I got out shivering, but there was a certain relief in getting rid of the sweat. There was no way around the mountain, no proper path, so I had to climb. Only then I regretted spending my previous afternoon smithing, because I had strained my muscles and right now I didn’t trust my body. It got colder with every bit I climbed, but at least my clothes were dry. I was also glad to have no hair to strike my face, rustled by the wind.  
I finally reached the top. And yet, instead of having time to catch my breath, I was faced with an attack. 

Someone swung an axe against my face. I was barely able to get out of the way, but it still brushed my ear. I reached for my sword and tried to counterattack his next swing. When he lost his balance, I pierced his chest. 

Someone attacked me from my back. 

I heard then, or otherwise I would have been impaled. While I fought that woman, I realized my mistake: There were several bandits guarding the entrance, and my careless climbing alerted all of them. I swirled in a circle, trying to keep them at a safe distance and attack those I could, and yet they kept coming. I defeated all, with the difficulty of being outnumbered, and ended panting like a dog. 

Still haven't even entered the ruin...

I collected myself and left the pile of bodies. With luck, there would be no more bandits inside.

This time I wasn't that lucky. Two bandits and a kind of rat-dog were at the end of the hall, the people discussing. But they didn't see me, so I could sneak closer. I overheard them mentioning someone named Arvel who got ahead of the group, and they were debating if he was either dead or rich by now. I didn't care about the bandit, but I was thankful to be aware there would be danger in my path. I sneaked behind them while they were distracted and through the door. 

There was a man in front of me.

I kept to the shadows, but there was no need. He was too concentrated in whatever he intended. From my angle, I saw the man pulling a lever at the center of the chamber.  
In a matter of seconds, a bunch of darts was shot from the walls and he dropped to the ground.

Sustaining my breath, I waited until the attack ended to get close to the man. To the body - he was dead. There was no one there besides me, so the attack was a defensive mechanism. The arrowheads were smoking, probably from poison or acid. 

Now, how could I get through the gate the man tried to open?

It wasn’t hard to notice some pyramids of stone with animals carved in each face. The pyramids turned. And close to each pyramid, one of those animals were pictured in a wall. 

Strange… 

I impulsively rotated each pyramid in order to make the animal represented in the closest wall face the front. From left to right, it was snake, snake and whale. I pulled the lever and ran away.

The gate opened. 

“Well… this wasn’t so hard. If this man was Arvel, he should have brought someone smarter.”

The next chamber looked more like a cave than a human building, full of cobwebs and even some plants. I heard a muffled cry, followed by a clearer shout for help. “Is… is someone coming? Harknir? Bjorn? Soling? I know I ran ahead with the claw, but I need help!” Following the sound, I saw a man involved in the cobwebs and a giant spider descending in his direction. More than the spider itself, the thought of seeing it eating a human disgusted me – I simply had to kill it. “Is that how animals feel when we kill them for a meal?” 

The man never shut up while I fought the spider, and when I brought it down, he was hysterical with relief.

\- You did it! You killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up.

\- Where’s the golden claw? – I retorted. No way I would risk freeing who clearly was Arvel without an interrogation first. 

\- Yes, the claw! I know how it works – He assured me, desperate – The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories… I know how they all fit together! Help me down, and I’ll show you. You won’t believe the power the Nords have hidden there. 

\- Hand over the claw first! – I snarled.

\- Does it look like I can move? You have to cut me down, first. 

I sighed. Guess I just embarrassed myself…

\- Fine. Let me see if I can cut you down. 

\- Sweet breath of Arkay, thank you.

Even while I cut the cobwebs – with a sword, because the dagger was not enough – he still kept talking. As soon as he was free, he started running away from me.

\- You fool, why should I share the treasure with anyone?

The only fool here was him. He was a Dunmer, able to move easily through the dark, and his hide armor offered some protection, but not enough when he had no weapons to attack me. I was tired, truly, but that only added to the reasons I wouldn’t stand someone I saved insulting and punching me. In few strikes, I severed his head. 

I found a journal and a golden object in his pocket.

The claw.

Yet, I wasn’t given an opportunity to turn back. 

I was on a crypt, and during the following hours I was chased by draugr between a labyrinth of corridors and traps. I even believed to have reached a dead-end where I would have to fight all of those undead or die trying, until I found a chain able to open a gate with water running through it. I managed to find a way to what could only be the Hall of Stories mentioned by Arvel.  
The vault was segmented in 3 parts, each with different carvings on the side walls. I saw humanoid figures and others animal-like, but none I truly recognized. They were covered in dust and cobwebs, and if there was a story to be told, it wasn’t accessible to me. At the end, I could see a heavy locked “door” with a circular metallic piece at the center, with 3 small holes where the fingertips of the claw would fit perfectly. 

I had the claw right there, and my brain told me to get it and run away from this cursed place. But my instincts ached for other things. What could be guarded behind this door?

I kept staring at it. Surrounding the circle where the claw could be placed, there were three outer rings, each with a symbol at the top, representing an animal. I knew it was a puzzle of some sort, and the wrong solution would probably activate a new trap. I studied the claw, to be sure it would fit the keyhole, and noticed another thing in the palm: the animals pictured in the rings were also represented there. From top to bottom, there was a bear, a kind of butterfly and an owl. I rotated the rings until the top sequence was exactly the same. “This is it”. 

I activated the key. 

The door gave way to a larger chamber, with a separate wall at the end of it, full of scribblings that started calling for me, as if voices were whispering around my head. In front of it, between me and the wall, was a coffin. The voices carried me a step forward. The lid of the crypt moved and fell to the ground with a heavy sound, the draugr that stepped out clearly strong. 

I never imagined he wouldn’t need to get close to attack me. He just opened his mouth and shouted: “Fus!”

The wind was like a wall against me, throwing me back. 

When I managed to get moving, the draugr was already at my side, and I stopped his blade in mid-air. I slid my sword along his axe and cut a bit of his hand, but he moved in a way that left my hip exposed and he didn’t hesitate to hit me there. I grunted, and for a while, kept only defending, in the hope of finding an opening. We circled around the crypt, neither willing to get close to the other.  
I took my dagger and threw it against him.

The dagger buried in his shoulder, and I used the unpleasing surprise to jump over the crypt and hit his head.

It wasn’t enough to kill the dead. 

We battled, me for my life, he for any glimpse of his previous life he could get this way. I took several blows and every time he shouted, dust and dirt managed to find a way into my wounds. But when I got closer to the wall, the voices were ringing, outside, around, inside me… My sight was suddenly getting worse, my surroundings darker. In a moment, I felt dizzy, and the impulse to turn my back to my opponent, facing the wall. The only thing I was able to see was the shining inscriptions in the wall, highlighting a single word: “Fus”. 

When my vision returned, it was like everything around me was moving slower. 

The blow only a hand away from my shoulder was slow enough for me to intercept it. I could get a kick on the draugr, and even disarm him. When he was preparing to bite me with his teeth, my sword pierced where he once had a heart, not to kill him, but to keep him in place, so I could hold my axe with the other hand and smash his head. 

He didn’t move again. 

And me? I almost couldn’t move either. 

For some reason, the time-effect abandoned me completely and my entire body protested against any movement I did. But I had to get away with at least 3 more things than the ones I entered with: the claw now safe in my pouch, the draugr ancient armor that I knew I wanted to claim, and a stone in the crypt where he was sleeping. Whatever the meaning of the map and strange words inscribed, this and the wall of words were the treasures of this crypt, and I did not only have a right to claim them, but also felt they would be important.

To carry that stone felt like carrying the weight of the world…

I found a secret exit from the sanctum, and more gold than I could carry, but the fresh air and the snow that started falling offered only temporary relief for my wounds. I started trembling halfway back, but I didn’t want to camp so close to the bandits and draugr lair. I fell on my way down more than I climbed, and couldn’t bring myself to cross the river. I drank the water – so cold that it hurt my teeth – washed the worst wounds, and tore parts of the blue robe to bind as well as I could. I lit a small fire, that didn’t offer much heat but was enough to cook my food, and realized halfway through my meal how quickly I had forgotten the perspective of the animals. Judging by the sun, it was several hours past midday, which meant I could still make it to Riverwood if I could stand. But not yet. Not yet…

I dozed for a bit and forced myself to cross the river as soon as I woke up. This time, I had to make two crossings, the second for the stone I decided to bring with me, and decided to dress the robe under the armor for warmth. I was traveling the roads with a turtle pace, chewing the last loaf of bread when a carriage miraculously crossed my path and the driver didn’t mind giving me a lift to Riverwood.  
I fell on my knees when I got out of the carriage. The driver, worried, offered to carry the stone for me, but I said I was fine and did it myself, not wanting more eyes on the treasure. I limped to the Riverwood Trader. My job first, my wounds later. But my vision blurred with each knock at the door, and when someone opened, I fell face on the chest of that person. My senses dispersed. 

I woke up in a real bed, in the Sleeping Giant Inn, with Gerdur at my side. She fussed over me, tending to my needs, my fever, my wounds, and only when she was satisfied she bothered to answer my questions. Yes, all my belongings were still with me, even the strange stone. No, Ralof wasn’t here anymore – he lingered only enough to make sure I had returned safe and sound - but still, there weren’t enough beds in the house and I needed better conditions than a floor, so the family gathered their savings to rent this room for me. It was Carmilla who asked for help, alerting the entire village. While Gerdur and her man thought of what to do with me, Sven and Faendal insisted on helping to carry both my body and the stone, competing to impress Carmilla, much for her proclaimed displeasure. 

One day was enough to make me feel better. I was up and around that night, and even the shop owner, Lucan, proved a visit to me along with Carmilla. But when I unveiled the golden claw and showed it to them, I realized they had only come to apologize for sending me into such a dangerous quest, and had no idea I had succeeded. They interrupted their rambling and stared at me with awe. 

\- It means so much to us to have the claw back where it belongs – Said Camilla, with a hug that made my hurt body protest – Thank you…

\- Thank you so much for taking care of those thieves. The Riverwood Trader is back to the way it used to be! 

He paid me in gold, just like he promised, and I gave it to Gerdur’s family for the troubles I caused them and to repay my debt. Carmilla spent most of the night at the inn, keeping me company and, from what I noticed, sparing some longing looks at Sven, even if she seemed angry when he looked at her back. It was almost funny. Faendal was there too, more to badmouth the bard’s songs and try to capture the woman’s attention than anything else, all while Sven composed the tale of how I dealt with those bandits and the draugr inside the keep, getting out, err, “unscathed” and with a mysterious treasure. Yes, Camilla apparently told them what I had told Lucan in my turn, and even Alvor, Gerdur and the innkeeper Delphine happened to hear it and seem properly impressed. Well, Delphine seemed more intrigued than impressed, but still, the tale spread like wildfire. The village was curious – after all, it’s not every day that a traveler returns to a village that met in the previous day hurt for something done for the common folk. Because that’s what they were singing: not that I did a favor to the store, but to the village. 

I couldn’t help but feel like a hero. 

And that’s what healed me the most.


	4. Puzzle piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Dragonborn finally enters Whiterun, identifies with the name Talos, and decides to enjoy a simple life for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have some mods that capture partially how I imagine Whiterun, the shops and ideas for Dragonsreach: https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/76907 https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/100226, https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/61237, https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/99240 https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/74280 https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/85787

I was on my way to Whiterun.

Because I promised to alert the Jarl, yes. Also because being an adventurer was not only exciting, but an image I had to keep about myself – just the image, really, since my will to face dangers so soon was not much. 

There wasn’t much to see on my way to there, except for fields spreading into farms until I lost sight of them. There were mountains, valleys, rivers… Some areas were surrounded by low walls of stone and guards with some strange helmets walking the perimeter. It wouldn’t be enough to deter thieves. However, in times of war, every obstacle presented to the enemy was valid. 

The people were simple, living among pigs and cows and chickens and their harvests, and some even offered me work in exchange for a roof, which I accepted. But I still needed to go see the Jarl. I wasn’t sure of how I would be welcomed in the city – could really anyone require an audience? – so I asked around for information. To that, the farmers told me the main gates were closed for protection, and the guards only allowed some approved few to enter. 

They were right, but to the guards I told something that I hadn’t told the farmers: that I had news for the Jarl about Helgen. They didn’t care to ask for any kind of proof – I was just shoved inside.  
If I thought the exterior number of levels until reaching the entrance was a lot, here they were even more. 

As far as I could see, the city was divided into 3 levels. This first and lowest area consisted of small houses and shops, and if my senses didn’t fail me, there was a market at the end of the road, in a straight line from the gates. The upper level had slightly bigger houses and more notorious structures, still with the green roof tiles and the Nordic architecture, barely visible from this angle. The river that crossed the city entered from there and, after descending to the lower level, went under the bridge at the entrance and exited through the sewers. The highest level was clearly visible, and occupied only a smaller area in diagonal from the main gate, containing a kind of palace beautifully designed with some ancient Nordic archways before the entrance. Was that the skeleton of a dragon I was seeing at the top? I wasn’t sure, but whoever this Jarl was, he fared well. 

There were people everywhere, pushing me while not seeing, talking to each other and to me but forgetting my presence immediately with the importance of their day-to-day activities. I went forward, because I was swept with the crowd, and turning to see every corner of the city revealed itself a hard task. Along the main road to the market, there was the guard barracks near the gate, a blacksmith called Warmaiden, a potential tavern elevated from the main road called The Drunken Huntsman, two simple houses at each side of the road, and surrounding the market, two shops and an inn: Belethor’s General Goods, Arcadia’s Cauldron, and the Bannered Mare. As if the people didn’t have enough space at home, every corner against the houses was filled with barrels, benches, even an unused cart full of goods. And the sounds!... The rhythmic hammering of metal by a blonde woman just at the entrance, in the exterior forge, was already loud, but the people were louder. They seemed happy, with a shadow of worry about the war occasionally showing in their faces, but mostly more interested in gaining a political argument against the neighbors than in actually caring about the faction they supported. There was laughter, and fights, and insults, and prays, and complaints about literally everything, mainly from the guards. I could hear barking, and hissing from cats, sounds coming from the houses every time doors opened. And the market? It was bursting with so many sounds and colors that it overstimulated my senses, leaving me dizzy and gaping. 

Without making any conscious decision, I was already climbing the stairs to the second level, that presented me a beautiful tree at the center of a circular pergola, where leaves and flowers hanged to the level of my head or swirled around the pillars supporting the structure while opening into other paths. I turned where I was, just trying to carve every detail into my memory. The tree was dying, but it was from age, not disease, and the branches intertwined with the structure, making the leaves fall on the top of the people like a gentle caress of goodbye. Water surrounded the main path and the circular platform under the tree, one channel at each side, therefore there were small bridges to close the gaps between this patio and the paths. At my left, the path leaded to the bigger houses I glimpsed from the gate, but at my right, the path gave way to a clearly important building, an organization of some kind, maybe a leading or defensive one. It was larger than the diameter of the circle and had multiple entrances, and its base form was oval, not square, in order to meet the inverted ship that served as a roof. At the front, the main path would take me through a sequence of stairs until the very top of the natural formation where Whiterun rested. The stairs were interrupted several times, to make the turns more leveled and interesting with lakes at each side, or another pergola decorated with flowers. I never visited this place, I was sure of it. I couldn’t have forgotten somewhere like this.

I proceeded on my path, moving towards the stairs.

In a fragment of a second, my brain stopped. It felt like an invocation, where my very sense of self responded to another person.

\- Talos!

I shuddered. Took a breath. 

\- Talos the mighty! Talos the unerring! Talos the unassailable! To you we give praise!

My face and hands felt hot, yet, shivers run across my spine. I put my arms around my body, having to lay down the weights I carried. That word, that… name… why did it come from the shrine at one side of the stairs, from a priest that went unnoticed by me, and why did it feel so right? “Talos” felt like a piece of me. Or like I was a piece of Talos. If a part, or a chess piece, I couldn’t say, but it felt like a natural extension of my role in this word, the solution to a puzzle I didn’t know I was trying to finish. It felt… like a name I could wear, and fit. 

The priest was dressed in a golden tunic, with a hood covering half of his face. He was screaming the sermon to the townsfolk with a fervor I have never seen in anyone:

\- We are but maggots, writhing in the filth of our own corruption! While you have ascended from the dung of mortality, and now walk among the stars! But you were once man! Aye! And as man, you said, "Let me show you the power of Talos Stormcrown, born of the North, where my breath is long winter. I breathe now, in royalty, and reshape this land which is mine. I do this for you, Red Legions, for I love you.” – He made a dramatic pause - Aye, love. Love! Even as man, great Talos cherished us. For he saw in us, in each of us, the future of Skyrim! The future of Tamriel! And there it is, friends! The ugly truth! We are the children of man! Talos is the true god of man! Ascended from flesh, to rule the realm of spirit!

I managed to stand straight and approach the man. He seemed satisfied with himself for recruiting a new face to the worship of his god.

\- You have come! – He stated, almost teary-eyed – You have come to hear the word of Talos!  
\- Well… yes. What can you tell me about Talos?  
\- Oh, my friend, if you seek knowledge about mighty Talos, you have most certainly come to the right person – He asserted his superiority as if the own gods had chosen him – In mortal life, Talos was a Nord possessed of unmatched tactical skill, limitless wisdom and the power to see into men’s hearts. Talos mastered the power of the Voice, and with it he united the lands of men into a great Empire – He explained, not giving me time to ask what the “voice” was – In southern lands, he was known by the name Tiber Septim. Here in Skyrim, we honor him by his proper Nord name. So great was his reign in life, when he ascended to the heavens he was made lord of the Divines. The very idea is inconceivable to our Elven overlords! Sharing the heavens with us? With a man? Ha! – His laugh was dry and sarcastic – They can barely tolerate our presence on earth! Today, they take away our faith. But what of tomorrow? What then? Do the elves take our homes? Our businesses? Our children? Our very lives?

\- Isn’t that a bit extreme? – I tried to rationalize, and thanked the fact that my ears were covered by the ancient helmet. 

\- How can that be extreme, if the Empire does nothing? Nay, worse than nothing! The Imperial machine enforces the will of the Thalmor! Against it’s own people! – He raised his voice at the last sentence, as if he was talking to a large excited audience.

\- But why was Talos worship outlawed? Was it really because they won’t admit a human god?

\- Oh, yes. But it only happened because of the Empire’s fault. Because the so-called Emperor is a coward! That’s right, I said coward! He agreed to banish the worship of Talos at the tip of an Aldmeri sword. They called it the “White-Gold Concordat”. Well, I call it blasphemy! A true son of the Empire would never have turned his back on our greatest herp, nota t any price. – My inner thoughts said that the sacrifice of that god was a way to actually avoid the destruction of Skyrim’s homes, children and lives, but it wasn’t worth the discussion. I shifted and tried to pay attention again – Well, let me tell you something, friend. Cyrodiil is a long way from here, and in Skyrim, we will never forsake mighty Talos!

\- Aren’t you worried you’ll be arrested? – Because I was worried for him…

\- Let them come! I have no fear, for Talos is my ally and I am his prophet. His word is upon my lips, his voice in my throat. 

I decided to leave the conversation at that. For some reason, I felt really exhausted just from hearing the word Talos repeatedly, and I still had stairs to climb. As I climbed, the rest of the Sermon followed me:

\- The truth, is that the Dragon’s children have come, to purge the world in fire and righteousness! So rise up! Rise up, children of the Empire! Rise up, Stormcloaks! Embrace the word of mighty Talos, he who is both man and Divine! For we are the children of man, and we shall inherit both the heavens and the earth! And we, not the Elves or their toadies, will rule Skyrim! Forever! Terrible and powerful Talos! We, your unworthy servants, give praise! For only through your grace and benevolence may we truly reach enlightenment! And deserve our praise you do, for we are one! Here you ascended and the Eight became Nine, you walked among us, great Talos, not as god, but as man!

And so I reached the Dragonsreach castle. 

The entrance gates were beautiful, with the profile of a golden dragon painted on one of the doors, facing the profile of a white horse painted on the other, which probably had something to do with the name of the keep and the banner of Whiterun. The base of the main hall was a longhouse. The entrance was simple, with only a few seatings and low tables, carved columns sustaining the roof and a long green and gold tapestry in the middle of the floor, stopping at the base of the steps. The steps took me further in the hall. The layout was simple, but the details were opulent: there was a stone fireplace on the floor, Nordic style, that extended almost all the way to the throne at the end of the hall. At each side of the fireplace, there was a longtable full of rich preparations, from various meats to fish, apples, cheese, grilled vegetables, sauces, mead, spiced wine and silver jars with complex carvings matching the cups. It looked like a banquet, yet not many people were seated at the tables. They seemed mostly nobles or rich merchants, some honorable guards and one scholar. Closer to the base of the stairs, there were cushioned chairs and bookshelves, and a woman was carefully tidying the area while another was busy at the kitchen, an open room at the left of the main hall. The room at the right, on the other hand, had some few wood furnishings, a map, and some glimmering items on the top of the tables, that I couldn’t exactly discern. There were fires and banners everywhere, and a few more steps leading to a dais where the throne could be found. Behind the throne, between two pillars, part of the wall was covered in ivys and I could see the skull of a dragon at the top, yet the throne itself was hidden from me by a bunch of people, conferring with the Jarl. 

\- Do you get to the Cloud District very often? – Wondered a man at the banquet, while pouring down more wine. He inspected me from head to toes and smiled at my expense – Oh, what am I saying? Of course you don’t. 

I controlled myself and approached the council. 

A man was very intent on convincing the Jarl of something, making nervous yet insisting gestures:

\- I only counsel caution. We cannot afford to act rashly on times like these. 

But before I could understand what they were talking about, a dark elf approached me, wielding her sword.

\- What’s the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving any visitors. 

\- I have news from Helgen – I told honestly, trying to not fiddle with my weapons in case it could pass the wrong meaning – About the dragon attack.

\- You know about Helgen? – She blinked - As housecarl, my job is to deal with all dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people, so you have my attention. The Jarl will want to speak with you personally. Approach – It was more an order than an authorization. 

So I did, with her opening a way between the counselors and interested parties. The Jarl stopped discussing and regarded me as the stranger that I was, with only his trust in the dunmer to prevent him from calling the guards. He was relatively old, with his blonde hair already graying, a matching pointed beard and a tired frown. 

\- Well. I trust you have something vitally important to tell me. Important enough to interrupt me in the middle of council?

I sighed, nodded in agreement and curtesy at the same time, and started the speech I had mentally prepared. 

\- A dragon destroyed Helgen. The people of Riverwood are afraid they will be next – Nothing like starting with the drama to make tired nobles start to move. 

The Jarl seemed shaken. He straightened, authoritarian and skeptical. 

\- And you're sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn't some Stormcloak raid gone wrong? 

\- Yes. I had a great view while the Imperials were trying to cut off my head – I hadn’t actually planned to say this… but since my sarcasm caught the man’s interest, I couldn’t say I regretted it. 

\- You were at Helgen when it was attacked?! You saw this dragon with your own eyes? - I nodded to his shock - You're certainly... forthright about your criminal past. But it's none of my concern who the Imperials want to execute. Especially now. What I want to know is what exactly happened at Helgen.

\- The Imperials were about to execute Ulfric Stormcloak – Should I have said “Jarl” Ulfric? - Then the dragon attacked, and burned Helgen to the ground. And last I saw it was heading this way. 

\- By Ysmir, Irileth was right! And I should have guessed Ulfric would be mixed up in this... – He turned to the closest man, the one I saw before advising caution - What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?

\- My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once – It was the dark elf who answered, serious and to the point – It’s in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains…

\- The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! – Disagreed Proventus fiercely - He’ll assume we’re preparing to join Ulfric’s side and attack him. We should not…

\- I’ll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! – The Jarl stood up, even angrier. Proventus immediately shut up and receded two steps, head bowed. The Jarl turned to the dunmer woman - Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once. 

\- Yes, my Jarl – She bowed and departed.

\- If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my duties – Announced Proventus, taking his leave.

The rest of the men quickly made up excuses to depart as well, even though most of them didn’t even pretend for long, deciding to sit at the banquet instead of doing whatever they said they had to do. There were children there as well, eating, possibly Jarl’s relatives to some degree. For a while, I just stood there, waiting to be either dispensed, thanked or… well, something. I didn’t want to seem rude in my first impression to the Jarl. He sat on the throne again, and finally addressed me.

\- Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You’ve done Whiterun a service, and I won’t forget it. Give me your name, so I can know who deserves my thanks.

Ah. My name. 

I knew I could make up something for now. And yet, the only name that came to me, the only name for which I was willing to build an image around, the only name that felt right and not like a lie, was the name I heard screamed today by the priest of Whiterun. I made my decision and faced the Jarl’s eyes:

\- Talos, sir. 

The man blinked.

\- Well… That’s a dangerous name, and yet, a worthy one. I can’t call it heresy when my own territory is neutral, and it’s your name, not the name of our Nord hero and god. It’s a bit ironic when you’re a high elf, isn’t it? But I shall address you as Talos, yes. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem. – He handed me a purse of coins, but didn’t release it in my hand, not until he had my attention - There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps. Come, let’s go find Farengar, my court wizard. He’s been looking into a matter related to these dragons and… rumors of dragons. 

I had no choice but to follow him. He took me to the glimmering-stuff room at the right, where the scholar I saw before in a blue robe was working with his back turned to us. 

\- Farengar, I think I’ve found someone who can help with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill him with all the details. – I couldn’t help but notice with mixed feelings the “him” the Jarl used to refer to me. 

The man finally turned, but with the hood covering most of his face, it didn’t make much difference. The Jarl left. Farengar crossed his arms.

\- So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Yes, I could use someone to fetch something… - Farengar seemed thoughtful - Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there.

\- What does this have to do with dragons? – I asked, for curiosity, but also because I wasn’t really looking for that kind of experience again. I also hid my bundle a little better, even though my carved stone was covered in cloths. The description matched too well… If this really was the stone he meant, I wouldn’t give it away without knowing for what, and I also wouldn’t want to reveal my treasure if it wasn’t what he meant. 

\- Ah, no mere brute mercenary, but a thinker. Perhaps even a scholar? – I denied with my head, but it made him no difference - You see, when the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities. One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside his experience as being impossible. But I began to search for information about dragons. Where had they gone all those years ago? And where were they coming from?

\- So what do you need me to do? I still don’t get the relation. 

\- I ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow – He admitted, seemingly proud of himself, and I was sure it was my treasure - A "Dragonstone," said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet, no doubt interred in the main chamber, and bring it to me. Simplicity itself.

\- Well… you said the stone may not be there – I started, lowering to unfold the stone that was too heavy to unfold in the air – and unless I’m mistaken, it isn’t. Not any longer. Because… I’ve been to Bleak Falls Barrow and I found this old stone. Is it what you mean? 

\- Ah! – He exclaimed, and I had a glimpse of his marveled eyes - The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! You already found it! – He took it from me, almost stumbling with the weight when trying to put it on his worktable - You are cut from a different cloth than the usual brutes the Jarl foists on me, that’s for sure.

He was caressing the stone as if it was a baby, cleaning it and picking some books with illustrations to compare them with the inscriptions. He wasn’t saying anything, so I wondered if I was dismissed. 

\- I got you the Dragonstone - I added - What next? 

He spared a look at me, not exactly surprised but also not expecting my presence.

\- That is where your job ends and mine begins. The work of the mind, sadly undervalued in Skyrim.

Okay, I could respect scholars, and wizards, and wise old people. And I didn’t experience enough of Skyrim to know the truth of his statement, but I believed it was at least possible. But why wasn’t I fit to do the work of the mind as well? And why was he undervaluing the favor I just did him, without as much as a “thank you”? I was straight to the point.

\- So what about my reward? 

\- You'll have to see the Jarl about that. Maybe his steward, Avenicci. I'm sure one of them will pay you appropriately.

So, I gave away my treasure for gold, and didn’t even get to know the meaning of it. Could as well have been a mercenary… I wandered in the room, noticing that one of the shining things was an alchemy lab like the one at Delphine’s inn, with some distillers with green liquid and a pentagram drawn at the base. There were chalices, books, jewels, pendants… The furnishing was simple indeed, but with more drawers than anything I have ever seen. Well, from what I could remember. I opened a book and started reading some passages, but Farengar got closer to me and slapped it closed. 

I straightened, and talked to him as if I didn’t see the reprimand.

\- Where can I learn more about magic? 

\- A prospective student, are you? – His voice softened - Well, I'm afraid I'm not much good at teaching. You should try your luck at the College of Winterhold.

\- Have you encountered any dragons? 

\- Sadly, no. My work affords me few opportunities for such an adventure. Perhaps some here will bring one to Dragonsreach, like Olaf One-Eye once did. What a fascinating conversation that would be! – It would be more scary than fascinating… I think I heard that name, “Olaf One-Eye”, in one of my books, but the idea of a dragon in this keep painted my image of him more like an idiot than a hero. 

\- Do you owe allegiance to the Imperials? – I was curious.

\- If I said that was a tedious question, would you be smart enough to know what I meant? Probably not. As long as I'm left alone to pursue my research, I don't care who gives the orders. – He simply explained. Well, I didn’t relate, but there’s usually no point in discussing with someone unconcerned about ethics. But in that case…

\- What are the duties of a court wizard? 

\- I'll put it simply, so you'll understand – Really, that was insulting - I advise the Jarl in matters of magic. If the hold is faced with any threats or mysteries of a magical nature, I am called upon to explain things and suggest a course of action. Hopefully, that answer will satisfy you. Now, I'm a busy man and your questions are boring me terribly. Good day.

Now I was dispensed. I was retreating to the main hall when I heard him add.

\- You know, if you've got the aptitude, you should really join the Mages College...

I toyed with the idea.

But no. Not for now. I had too many things on my mind and, since I doubted the Jarl would reward me more, I made my way to the exit. I was only interrupted by Proventus, who was sent by the Jarl to told me there was a house available here in Whiterun if I was interested. And I was, but that price… I didn’t have 5000 gold with me. Still, I made the decision to work and save as much money as I could to buy it in a close future.

It was getting darker, which meant I had no time to work in the farms, but maybe I could give the welcoming farmers something and work tomorrow in exchange for a roof. I could also rent a room at the inn, but if I kept doing that, I wouldn’t really save anything. So I went to the blacksmith, sold all of my weapons except the sword, and used some of the money to buy fresh meat at the market, almost closing for the day. I presented the meat to the farmer family, who thanked me, and the housewife roasted the pork for dinner, with some baked potatoes, tomatoes, sauce and grain. After seeing the banquet at Dragonsreach and barely eating during the entire day, I was really hungry, yet I wasn’t expecting a meal able to match the Jarl’s rich table. I couldn’t stop praising the woman’s cooking abilities, and that made her laugh and blush. She was named Mary, and her husband was Geralt. We quickly established the rules: I could stay here as long as I wished, sleeping in the spare room left by their grown-up son, sharing the couple’s meals, and be paid, as long as I worked the farms every day. If I started as soon as the sun rose, I would be able to get most of the afternoon for me to spend as I pleased. I was happy to agree, and eager to get started. 

The weeks went flying. 

Starting the following morning, I rose at 5 AM, with the sunrays breaching through the curtains of my small room. I splashed my face, drank milk or cheap ale, and took an apple or bread with me to start the day. I worked all morning – got water from the river, watered the plants, planted seeds, harvested what had grown, prepared the soils… - until my arms and back ached, but with time the pains faded and were replaced with the growth of muscle. We ate the midday meal together, and I got to know the couple better. By the afternoon, I usually went to sell our excesses (bargaining was really hard at first, especially when the people thought a traveler was more gullible), at the other farms in exchange for their own harvest, or at the market. I only returned home by night, since I tended to spend the rest of the day knowing the place or the people. I also explored the area around the city, until the base of the mountains or the other limits of the Hold, but I didn’t dare go too far. I didn’t feel prepared, and I had to wake up early the next day.

On one of my first days, I even helped to battle a giant. I was on my way to the Battle-Born farm when I heard shouts and fighting, and there was a giant man on the top of some plantations surrounded by energetic warriors, that seemed fleas by comparison. They presented themselves as The Companions, the warrior’s guild of Skyrim, leaderless since the death of Ysframor but counseled by the Harbinger Kodlak. Aela, a woman in ancient Nordic armor with a triangular painting in the middle of her face, was the scariest of the bunch, and I was quite sure no one would bother a woman like her, not when her fighting skills were as great as her beauty. She thanked me for the help, and invited me to know more about the Companions, maybe even join them. 

With time, I got to know the entire city by heart, even the children. I felt as sorry for Lucia as the other children, and didn’t understand why no one adopted such a sweet orphan. I just knew I wanted to do it, and my will to put a roof over her head made me work harder. In the meantime, I constantly brought her gifts. The other children were funny, with their petty problems – some were mean, others were dumb, and all had time to play on the streets between their duties, from helping a mother at the market to studying at Dragonsreach. I found out that the blacksmith was owned by the woman, Adrianne’s, who had been obsessed with swords since her childhood and was helped in the store by her husband Ulfberth, really good at making intelligent jokes. Belethor’s, the owner of the General Goods shop, was the complete opposite, saying that he sold everything and would even sell his sister if he had one, making me uncomfortable. Arcadia’s had an enormous cauldron in her shop, thus the shop name, and she brewed potions, poisons, remedies, and knew a lot about plants and the properties of food, lending me her Herbalism guide when I asked to learn more – she seemed happy to share her knowledge, in fact. I helped Carlotta keep her family, little Mila, intact by dissuading the persistent man that bothered her when she was selling vegetables at the market without even buying anything. Fralia, the elder Gray-Mane, was the only kind person that I met in both the Gray-Mane and Battleborn families, that let their political parties turn their previous friendship into rivalry, and yet the woman’s son Thorald was kidnapped by the Thalmor, because the family supported the Stormcloaks. Anoriath and Elrindir were Bosmer elves and co-workers of The Drunken Huntsman, and had the most hilarious story for the name of the tavern, where they went hunting together and, because they were drunk, almost shot each other by mistaking the brother for prey. The Bannered Mare was a welcoming tavern where I spent lots of time, just listening to the rumors (occasionally contributing a bit) and listening to Hulda’s stories, or Ysolda’s ambitions and comments about the Khajit race. The companions were a fun, rude and brave bunch, willing to ignore their differences for the glory of their order, or the blood-shedding, or… well, they couldn’t even agree on why they fought, but they worked well together. The guards were all lazy, save for one or two more curious about my Helgen story. I did small favors for everyone and was rewarded in return, both with gifts and their friendship. I was happy about the relationships I built and confident in my future neighbors.

For as thankful as I was to the couple that practically adopted me, they couldn’t pay me enough to afford the Breezehome house in the Plains District as soon as I wanted, and with the way my arms were muscled, they could be useful for something harder. So I went to the Warmaiden, and asked to be made an apprentice. I still visited Mary and Geralt frequently, but was kept busy at the forge. Me and Adrianne’s worked well together, and I was starting to realize how I quickly formed friendships with women. My weapons sold, and my skills increased naturally. The apprenticeship, the previous work at the farm and all my exploring and errands made me strong and fit, and when I went to sleep, I felt a good kind of weariness. My appearance also made even more people confused about my sex, and that combined the readiness of my body left me really satisfied with it. 

I felt happy, and almost forgot about the dragons or Helgen. My past still bugged at me, but I was building my life around the identity of Talos, and people were warming up to it. 

Life was good.


	5. Dragonborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the chapter when Talos finds out they are Dragonborn. Also, Lucia gets a family.

One afternoon, I was chilling at the Bannered Mare after a hard day of work when a guard entered alarmed, looking in every direction and shouting something to the outside when he recognized me.

\- He’s here!

I got up slowly, fearing to provoke strong reactions.

\- Have I done something wrong? – I asked. Did I have my dagger with me? Ah, yes I did. Good. 

\- No sir. Miss. Sir. Err... – The man was at a loss of words, but I was used to that kind of misgendering and we didn’t have time to chat anyway, because Irileth, the Jarl’s housecarl, irrupted in the common room. 

\- You – She said, looking at me – Come with me. The Jarl requires your assistance. 

They could have said it sooner…

I regretted leaving my beer unfinished, but it wouldn’t look well to leave the Jarl waiting because of that. Even worse was my appearance, because even with the apron, the clothes I used today got dirty with soot and were wearied with use. If Nazeem – a man I now recognized – had considered my appearance inadequate for the Cloud District on the first day, I could only imagine my impression now. There was nothing to be done. I left with the guards.

There was tension in the air on our way up to Dragonsreach. My attempts to know what the problem was got me nothing, so I tried to break the ice with another subject.

\- How did a dark elf come to be Housecarl? – I asked Irileth, forcibly lighthearted. 

\- How did a high elf come to be in Whiterun’s service? – She retorted, clearly seeing me as such – By our contributions, of course. Although there’s more to it… Balgruuf and I share a battle bond. We met as youths, and forged our friendship in the fires of war. When he became Jarl, I insisted on serving as his protector. He had no cause to argue. 

Interesting…

\- What does a Housecarl do? 

\- I am charged with protecting the Jarl from any and all threats. Powerful men have many enemies. More so, in times of strife. So you can imagine the dangers. Oh, yes, there have been attempts on the Jarl's life. More than one would-be assassin has met his end at the tip of my blade. 

\- What threats does the jarl face? 

\- Take your pick. – She grunted, or maybe that was a sarcastic laugh - Dragons, Stormcloak assassins, ambitious and unscrupulous nobles... Sometimes I think his own children want him dead. And those are just the physical threats. Assaults on his sanity are another matter entirely. Every day, he deals with obsequious functionaries and incompetent bureaucrats. Sadly, I'm not allowed to eliminate them. Well, not yet, anyway. – She acted as if it was really just a matter of time, then suddenly glared at me - Gods, you are curious. Almost... dangerously so.

The Jarl was pacing on the second floor of the main chamber, near a table covered with maps and representations of the several Holds and forts. Clearly the war room. Apparently, a dragon had been sighted near the Western Watchtower and started attacking, so the guards there needed reinforcements to protect the city and have a chance of saving themselves. Since I was the only one here to have seen a dragon, the Jarl wished to count with my experience on the battlefield. They gave me a chainmail and chest plate to put over my clothes, an iron horned helmet and a sword that wasn’t much different from those I could forge with my apprentice skills, along with a bow and arrows. I was still better equipped than I was at Helgen…

Irileth cleared her throat and hurried me to join the soldiers. When she was sure to have their attention, she was straight to the point, and I could see the men trusted her honesty and commanding skills.

\- Here's the situation. A dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower.

That shook them. 

\- A dragon? – They whispered among themselves.

\- Now we're in for it – Said another.

Irileth didn’t let the fear spread.

\- You heard right! I said a dragon! I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. What I do know is that it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!

\- But Housecarl... – Interrupted one guard - how can we fight a dragon?

\- That's a fair question. – She admitted - None of us have ever seen a dragon before, or expected to see one in battle. But we are honorbound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes... our families. Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?

\- No, Housecarl! – Most of them agreed.

\- We're so dead... – Was a discouraged whisper at my left. I elbowed him. 

\- But it's more than our honor at stake here – Irileth proceeded, as if she truly were a Nord and shared their values - Think of it: the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age. The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?

\- Yeah!

\- Damn right! 

This time all of the men were in it, raising their swords in the air, and I joined them. Irileth smiled. 

\- Let's move out.

We went, half marching and half running. There were women as well, or at least I assumed they were women, even though I couldn’t be sure if there wasn’t someone like me there. Those things were never spoken aloud, and in times like this, they were a mental burden as well. I was just grateful the dragon went for the tower instead of the closest farms – Mary and Geralt’s farm wasn’t far from it. When we reached the Western Watchtower, there wasn’t much of it left. There was no one there, unless some dead guards that we were too late to assist. 

Irileth only cared for what she could do, not letting lost opportunities ruin the ones she still had.

\- No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here. I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with.

\- No! Get back! – A man shouted, crawling from under the wrecks. He was missing the left leg under the knee, but was signing for us to keep our distance instead of helping him - It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!

\- Guardsman! - Irileth seemed torn with indecision. She tried to get some answers first - What happened here? Where's this dragon? Quickly now!

\- I don't know! I… – His eyes went wide and he put the arms over his head - Kynareth save us, here he comes again...

Irileth’s head snapped in the direction he was looking before, scanning the night. Her race saw better than most in the dark. 

\- Here he comes! – She shouted - Find cover and make every arrow count!

Cover, right. I fled to under a diagonal block of the destroyed tower to protect myself from the fire, as the shadow in the sky became a more solid being. I pulled another guard with me, a futile effort, because the hideout was not big enough to protect both – the heat was too much even as deep as I was. As soon as the heat was manageable, I jumped over the guard and took my bow, joining the soldiers attacking the dragon. There was no point to it. His scales were like an armor, a strong and impenetrable one, perfectly able to reflect the arrows. “Maybe an eye…” I looked around, done with wasting my efforts. “If he just got a bit lower and I could see his face…”

Or I could get higher. 

I ran to the tower, unable to understand what Irileth roared over the fire, the shouts of the dragon, that I almost understood better. The entrance was still intact, and I found a way o the top from between the bricks, rocks and the wreckage. Maybe the watchtower wasn’t as tall as it had been before, but it still got me closer to the altitude I wished. I prepared to shoot, and got the attention of the dragon. “That’s it… Keep looking at me…”.

I was trembling when I shoot.

I missed.

What I got was the tin, tender scales under the eye, and the arrow was stuck there for a time, which only made the dragon angrier. He pushed his body against the tower, making me lose my balance and almost falling out, and flew closer to the hole where I came from, blocking my path to cover. Looking at me, he almost seemed pleased. He opened his mouth. My only escape path was jumping from the tower. 

In a moment, Irileth got out of the hole and pushed me to the ground, protecting both of us with her shield. The flames encircled us, but did no harm. When I uncovered my face, she was almost lying on top of me, breathing with effort. 

\- I don’t know if you are brave or just stupid – She told me, panting – Now… Let’s finish what you started. 

She stayed in front of me, protecting us with her shield and ordered me to keep shooting, trying to reach an eye. It wasn’t easy. An eye was a small target on a fast beast, and I wasn’t the best of archers. The arrows were quickly consumed, and I had to borrow hers. But she didn’t let me give up.

Finally, when we had only two arrows left, one stroke true. The dragon roared and shook his head, trying to loosen it, and got his pawns to his face in despair, falling in the mid of the flight and pushing again against the tower. It was starting to fall, and me and Irileth had to hold each other to keep balance. 

\- Move, your idiots! – She shouted at the soldiers in the shadow of the tower. Then, as the tower kept crumbling and the top got closer to ground, she met my eyes – When I say three, we jump. Ready? – I nodded – One… Two… Three!

I jumped straight ahead and rolled on my back to diminish the impact, but doing it with my armor still hurt. There was no time for complaints. The dragon had fallen and was spitting fire in all directions, biting the soldiers who managed to get close. I drew my sword and joined the fight. The losses were great, but our fury and fear were greater, and the Nords fought with a savagery unknown to me. We were winning.

Finally, the dragon was too weak to fight back. Irileth was able to climb his neck and bury her sword in the joint between the skull and the base of the neck.

The dragon was dead.

No one moved, no one chanted victory. We were recovering our breaths, still afraid that he could return to life somehow. But as time went by, confident smiles were spreading, and the sense of our accomplishment was finally settling on us. Even I could feel it: the adrenaline of the danger and the hunt, the pity of bringing down such a majestic being while at the same time besting a mighty warrior in a battle he wished to fight. I was feeling… An itch, in my chest. Inside my chest. When I gasped, everyone was looking at me and Irileth approached, asking me how I was feeling. I would answer if I could. I couldn’t. I couldn’t even breathe, I…

Lights were coming from the dragon into my chest, then expanded to my shoulders and belly, my legs, my arms, my head… They were colorful, orange and blue, yet mostly white, like sun rays that sometimes seemed to have a color, and I stopped knowing if I was still standing or caring about my aching lungs. 

Then it all stopped. I was breathing again, and felt stronger than before. My wounds didn’t hurt, nor my back, or even my lungs, yet my head was throbbing. 

I caught the middle of a conversation between the guards.

\- Dragonborn? What are you talking about? 

\- That's right! My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself. – Insisted a soldier.

\- I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons. – Said the first. I searched my memory for that name, finally recalling that Tiber Septim was the name in the south for Talos, according to the Whiterun's priest. 

\- There weren't any dragons then, idiot. – Added a third - They're just coming back now for the first time in... forever. But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power. You – he turned to me - must be one!

\- What do you say, Irileth? You're being awfully quiet. – Another man. All of the survivors seemed interested in the conversation, assuming that I was fine.

\- Come on, Irileth, tell us, do you believe in this Dragonborn business? – A woman pressed the housecarl.

\- Hmph – She grunted - Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about. Here's a dead dragon – she retrieved her sword from the beast -, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mythical Dragonborn – She stated rudely, and yet, the look she gave me conveyed a good impression in her next, softer, words - Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me.

\- You wouldn't understand, Housecarl. You ain't a Nord. – Dismissed the third man, shuddering.

\- I've been all across Tamriel – Argued Irileth, providing one more clue about her experience - I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this. I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword over tales and legends.

She dispersed, and some soldiers went with her, looking for survivors. But some guards remained, and the second I saw speaking still wasn’t done with his curiosity.

\- If you really are Dragonborn, like the old tales, you ought to be able to Shout. Can you? Have you tried? 

The answer he deserved was that I didn’t have the time between my near-death battle, my near-death experience where I couldn't breath and all this fussing, but well… I was curious too. And while I wasn’t sure about what shouting was, I’ve heard the word times enough to conceive something on my mind. What came to me were the words I heard when the dragons opened their mouths to shower us with fire. And if I truly was that Dragonborn and had – not that it made sense – dragonblood, that could explain why I understood them. Or why I thought I did.  
There was a sound repeatedly echoing in my mind, begging to be let out. A word, written in the strange wall of the Bleak Falls Barrow chamber, that now I understood as “Unrelenting Force”. I allowed it to escape. I opened my mouth, and tried to say it. I lost control. 

\- Fus!

A wall of wind spread in front of me, sweeping everything that was in the way, and even making the soldiers around lose their balance. 

My head was better. I could still hear the word, but it wasn’t as pressing as before, and my incredulity was louder. So was the incredulity of the guards. Literally louder.

\- That was Shouting, what you just did! – They were exclaiming - Must be…

\- You really are Dragonborn, then...- They were in awe.

Irileth assumed control of the area while she and the guards did what they could for the place and survivors, and prepared to take a trophy from the dragon to the palace. That would be time-consuming, therefore I was sent ahead to report to the Jarl. I felt so energized that I climbed the stairs in record time, and didn’t even let Nazeem finish his remarks before finding Balgruuf in the throne. He didn’t waste time with formalities.

\- So, what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there? 

\- The watchtower was destroyed – I announced - but we killed the dragon. To be honest, my Jarl, I think I deserve a reward – I took off that horrible helmet. 

\- There's no question about that – He agreed willingly - It was a mighty deed. You've earned a place of honor among the heroes of Whiterun, and I knew I could count on Irileth as well. But there must be more to it than that. Did something... strange... happen when the dragon died? 

How did he know?

\- Turns out I may be something called "Dragonborn" – I admitted, feeling silly. 

\- Dragonborn? What do you know about the Dragonborn? – He sat straighter, even more interested. 

\- That's just what the men called me. When the dragon died, I absorbed some kind of power from it. 

\- So it's true... – He fell back again, and folded his hands, thinking. I waited, understanding that whatever he was going to say required solemnity. - Not just the men. The Greybeards seem to think the same thing, for they were summoning you.

\- The Greybeards? – I was sure I never heard about them, nor could I conceive the relation between a summoning and being possibly the Dragonborn. The Jarl answered patiently.

\- Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World. 

\- What do these Greybeards want with me? 

\- The Dragonborn is uniquely gifted in the Voice - the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or Shout. If you really are the Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift. 

It was finally making some sense. The Jarl explained to me that most people heard a Shout from the mountains where they lived, putting in their minds the idea that the Dragonborn should be sent to their lair. Given my history with dragons, Balgruuf had suspected it could be me. He gave me some lose instructions on how to get there, saying he would send an escort if he could afford it, but it was not commendable in times of war. I didn’t want to give a definite answer on what I would do, so I used his answer to change the subject.

\- Whose side are you on? 

He sighed. 

\- If it's the war you're referring to, I'm on the side of Whiterun – He said simply. But the truth is always more complex… - No doubt General Tullius and his friends in the Empire will tell you that I owe them my loyalty, and perhaps I do. Ulfric Stormcloak would say that I owe my allegiance to the Nord people as they fight for Skyrim's independence. Perhaps this is also true. The day might come when I am forced to draw my sword for one side or the other. But that day has not come yet. – He sounded tired. 

\- Why do you think Ulfric killed the High King? – I persisted, knowing I wouldn’t get another excuse to speak with him anytime soon. He clearly discussed this kind of thing a lot, so he was a better source than the rumors at the Inns. 

\- No doubt he thought it was the only way to make his point. And also because he knew he could.

The end of the conversation left me thinking. I stepped aside for a while, letting the Jarl discuss privately with his council, Proventus included. The Jarl seemed to reach a decision and called me again. I bowed.

\- You've done a great deed for me and my city, Talos Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun – He proclaimed. Upon seeing my lack of reaction, he explained: - It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl, this purse of gold, and this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office. The Axe of Whiterun. – He placed an axe in my hands. It was a fine blade, with Nordic carvings in silver and gold, a grip painted in the yellow of the Hold’s banner, and a pommel in the form of a horsehead - I'll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble now, would we? – He joked, with the ghost of a smile - We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn.

\- The honor is mine – I was able to answer, gripping the axe for stability. 

The seriousness of the moment and all the things I had to process attenuated some of my energy, yet when I counted the gold in the purse, I felt immediately better. Screw the dragon, the title and the Greybeards. With this and my savings, I could already buy a house! 

It was late in the night, but I was determined to sleep in my own house today. I ran to The Warmaiden’s, took all my coins with me, climbed the stairs to Dragonsreach for the third time in the last hours, asked the guards to take me to Proventus and used my just acquired authority to persuade them to obey me even though I was interrupting his sleep. “I could get used to this…” I thought, as I banged at Proventus’ bedroom door. I purchased the house even if I didn’t have the money for the decorations listed by Proventus – with the satisfaction of revenge, probably because he wanted to return to bed – paid separately. I took the keys and ran to Breezehome.

My new home.

It was a mess, and almost empty. 

There was a bunch of boxes in the corners, together with some spider webs and two chairs. In the first half of the first floor, there was a small built-in stone fireplace like the Nordic style dictated. There was an empty circular room at the right, and the second floor was a loft, with a room furnished simply with a bed, furs and a chest. But I wouldn’t be able to pay for the decorations that soon, so I started to make the space hospitable. Why? Because I wanted to put a roof over Lucia’s head tonight.

I swept the floor and cleaned the cobwebs. I cut some wood to lit a fire. I placed the two chairs in front of the fire, and opened the boxes – all contained some building materials I left in the corner, rather using the different sized boxes as a table and seatings, placing it in the second half of the hall over some furs I used as tapestries. I made the bed. Then I went to retrieve my belongings.

Adrianne’s woke up with all my visits there. I assured her I was fine and told her I did a service to the Jarl that granted me coin to buy Breezehome, so I was moving. I was still keeping my place as an apprentice. She had known about my plans for a time, so she went to sleep again.  
I placed my clothes in the bedroom chest, some food I took from the Warmaiden’s in the “table”, and my books in the circular tower. My potions and weapons went to the loft as well. Finally, I cut some flowers and decorated the "table" with a vase. Well, this would suffice. 

Lucia was sleeping in a bench around the Whiterun special tree, the one with the pink dying flowers. She always slept there, except when it was raining, and only had a thin blanket for cover. She was sleeping with the wood doll I gave her tucked under her arm. 

I approached silently, not wanting to startle her.

\- Lucia? – I whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. I had to shook her a little before she finally woke up, rubbing her eyes.

\- It’s you, good lady! Oh… it’s still night. 

\- Yes, sorry about waking you – I told her, trying to express regret – but I was wondering if you would like to spend the rest of the night in my home. I could… I could adopt you – I choked on that sentence, with tears suddenly flooding my eyes. Why was I crying…?

But she was crying too. She hugged me so hard that I almost fell back, and called me “Mama”. I managed to explain, between swallowed sobs, that she would need to sleep on my bed for now, but that left her happier instead of indecisive, because she “missed sleeping with her Mama”. I didn’t like being perceived as a woman, but for her, I was willing to. Even glad for it.  
So she came with me. And we slept together, she finally provided for and in the comfort of a real bed. With a family. I was her family. We talked a little before she fell asleep. She told me about how her parents died and the uncle that took over her house didn’t want her there, so she ended in Whiterun. She was only 8 years old. I told her I was called Talos and was an adventurer. I talked about how I had defeated a dragon today, presented as a fairytale.

With all that had happened, this moment was truly special to me. This was the best day of my life.


	6. And the legend yet grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talos meets Lydia, realizes how they are becoming a legend, and journeys to High Hrothgar

I spent the following days in a rush. I knew I would have to meet the Greybeards sooner or later, and took my time to explain that to Lucia, with the promise I wouldn’t be away for long, that yes, I would still be her Mama and yes, the house was hers. I made more money, furnished my house slowly and simply – my first purchases were a children’s bed, a washstand and a kitchen, but with time even my books, potions and weapons had a proper place – and we were happy. The rumors of my feat spread, and I was still amazed at how quickly a tale morphed the truth. Only Irileth was still mentioned in the tale, sometimes. Mostly, people only talked about me: how I climbed the tower, shoot the dragon in the eye with only one arrow, killed the monster and, when he died, I absorbed his power and Shouted with such a strength that I ripped the head from the body. Even guards that were with me at the battle seemed to somehow believe that version more than what they actually saw. 

Such a warrior deserved to be a member of the Companions. They still wanted to make sure the tales were not exaggerating my strength, so they request to see my Thu’um – that I was slowly starting to control – and a fistfight. I managed some good punches and resisted well, even if I didn’t win, so they accepted me in their order. That granted me a place to sleep in the shared bedrooms, in case I got too drunk during the late celebrations to find my way home. The exterior of their building Jorvaskr had always impressed me – the roof was literally a ship turned upside down – but all of the warriors and the interior decorations carried the Nordic spirit as well. And they insisted I started training with them every day to get even better. That’s how I started to split my daily duties between not only the apprenticeship at the forge, but also Lucia and The Companions. Oh, and reading. That had been a part of my routine for some time already, and being given access to the library of Dragonsreach helped me to fulfill my thirst for knowledge about this world. To be honest, I almost felt I already knew more than some of the other commoners. 

Lydia, my new housecarl, greeted me every time with talks about honor or such. She was a bit stiff and awkward, and couldn’t move without knocking things, but also loyal and really protective of my daughter. I also enjoyed arguing with her, about her views mostly. She definitely thought Skyrim belonged to the Nords and, even without being supportive of the Stormcloaks, opposed the Thalmor embassy and took some time after realizing I was half-elf to accept that part of me. But in all of that time, she was still loyal, and still honest. And still greeting me. 

My collections started to grow, even my wardrobe, since people were willing to make special prices for their Thane, hero, and friend. That wasn’t always good for me – Belethor seemed convinced that I became magically rich and started charging more – but mostly, the items were cheap. Even Lucia got new dresses. My “charity”, as they called the act of adopting her, also made their hearts soft. Only the guards and Nazeem were still rude to me, but even their respect was growing. I sported as many dresses as I did pants, and armors of every type, but the majority of people seemed to think that a man couldn’t wear dresses for some reason, and even the Jarl, upon seeing me in one, seemed to reconsider his idea of me as a man. I regretted that, but knew that at the same time I was making things easier for Lucia, so it was a small compensation. Still, I promised myself to not make the same mistake in other cities or holds I visited. 

When I had so many belongings, deciding what to take with me consisted of putting stuff in my bags and taking it out again. In relation to clothing, I selected a blue dress with a brown corset, dark-blue leggings, a white shirt with golden patterns in the sleeves, a fur-trimmed cloak that should also suffice to keep me warm during sleep, gloves – absolutely necessary given that the Greybeards lived amidst the snow – and a pair of flexible but durable laced boots. As protections, I took my best steel armor, and I spent some time improving it in the forge. Adrienne surprised me by gifting the default helmet with a pair of horns, and all the pieces fit perfectly. I took the Axe of Whiterun, a simpler steel sword, a steel dagger, steel arrows and a solid bow. Money, potions and travel food occupied most of my satchels, along with some books I thought would help me during my travels – one about the appearance and properties of plants and mushrooms, a second about the dangerous creatures of Skyrim, and one that summarized information about the holds. I also brought things that could be useful: lockpicks, a torch, a pair of stones to lit fires, an axe appropriate to cut wood, bandages, and a light bowl and spoon for the food. Finally, I found a way to bring the Ancient Nord armor with me. Not particularly protective, but it offered some protection to travel fast in the woods, was easy to layer with other clothing, and sometimes a person just wanted to feel beautiful and barbaric at the same time. 

Lucia didn’t want any harm to befall me, and was the one to convince me to take Lydia as well. I was hesitating before, because I wanted someone to take care of my daughter and keep her company, but Arcadia promised to do that for me, and since she was the one to let the girl in when it was raining before she had a home, they trusted each other. Lydia was wearing a steel armor set as well, not as refined as mine. She insisted on “carrying my burdens”, but since I didn’t have anything I couldn’t really carry myself – yet – I pretended to be sharing my burdens by providing her with a list of “useful items” equal to mine, in case we got separated. Also, a change of clothes and a cloak. I didn’t want her to look ready to kill if we visited some village.

Finding Ivarstead was a matter of following the indications pointing the way at the crossroads… with interruptions. Like, say, cleaning a tower of bandits that kindly intercepted us and required a fee if we wanted to use the road. And maybe they were telling the truth, but they were living in the precise location that Proventus told me to clean, and I knew that bringing their leader down would get me a bounty. So I just wiped them out of existence, Lydia gladly, me slightly sorry. Well, they should have chosen a better profession, or become better warriors if they wanted to be successful. But an easy life? That didn’t exist.

On our way, we also found: ritual stones, magical pillars of stone that left me feeling stronger in some aspects and weaker in others after sending a light to the sky when I placed my palm upon them; hired thugs that seemingly were paid for killing me (I never found out who paid them); beasts; and a Stormcloak camp. We found the camp after 3 days of travel, when our rations were already diminished and we spent the last one hunting for game, and were tired of doing shifts at night and bathing in cold water, if available. So I was hoping they would let us spend the night there – at least that way we wouldn’t have to worry about danger while we slept – but no: their own provisions were low, and while they were willing to inform us about the Stormcloak propaganda, they wouldn’t risk welcoming spies in their midst – even less a high-elf like me. 

\- They are as much a Nord as we are – snarled Lydia in my defense, though I didn’t completely agree with the message – and my Thane should be treated with respect, not insult.

\- Thane? Better not be from Solitude – The Stormcloak spat.

\- From Whiterun – I specified.

\- Then, a friend of the Empire – Concluded the man.

\- Whiterun is neutral territory! – Lydia was getting nervous.

\- If it’s not with us, it’s against us! – Shouted the man. Echoes of support surrounded us – I don’t care if this is a Nord or an elf, they share the lineage of the Thalmor and that increases the risk. Unless you were pledged to our fight, you don’t belong here. Now go, before we change our minds.

So we did. 

I wasn’t aware that Ivarsted was so close to the camp, otherwise, we could’ve pushed on during the night and still sleep on a bed. Instead, we made our own little camp near a water source, and found the village in the morning. 

Ivarstead was small and had no stores in it – in fact, even the villagers agreed there was nothing there and wanted to leave, informing us that it only served as a stopping place for pilgrims wishing to climb the mountain. Seven Thousand Steps to the top, they said. The people depended on what they farmed, fished or hunted, with the surrounding area ripe with deers and rabbits, but the faltering economical situation in Ivarstead didn’t allow to grow leeks, amongst other things. We went to Vilemyr Inn, the only place where we could rest and buy supplies, and gathered more information about the Greybeards. Apparently, there was a fisherman named Klimmek who usually delivered supplies to the Greybeards – oh no, not directly, but in a chest between the two stairways leading up to High Hrothgar’s entrance. At the time, he was hurt and unable to make the climb, and the people suspected he was also discouraged because his love left him. Fastred, was the woman’s name, and she was suddenly enchanted with Bassianus Axius – who wanted to marry and live with her in Riften. Her mother was supportive, but not the father. 

That’s how I and Lydia got involved. We talked with Fastred parents and decided it was best for everyone to convince Klimmek that he should confront his own feelings. Then we hid behind a bush and saw the hilarious yet inspiring declaration of love that won the simple girl back – quoting, “What good is fish if I have to eat them alone?”. She was still unhappy about having to live the rest of her life in the middle of nowhere, but the couple wanted to get over the obstacles together. 

\- That girl wouldn’t be fit for Riften anyway. And I don’t like Bassianus vibes. He sounds like a liar – whispered Lydia in my ear.

\- I didn’t think he would be good for her either. But I also agree with Fastred’s mother: she has a right to choose her own life – I argued – That’s why I only confronted Klimmeck, not her. He got his feelings out, and she is still free to choose how to act about those feelings. 

I could only hope I have done the right thing. After a period of rest accompanied by a peasant roast with vegetables, we decided to be on our way. Klimmek found us when we were nearing the stairs. Good. 

\- On your way to High Hrothgar? About to make a delivery up there myself – He said.

\- What types of deliveries do you make to High Hrothgar? – I wondered.

\- Mostly food supplies like dried fish and salted meats; you know, things that keep fresh for a long time. The Greybeards tend not to get out much, if you catch my meaning.

\- And in return? 

\- Well, it's kind of an understanding between us. I mean, it just wouldn't feel right to charge them for a bit of preserved food. Trouble is, my legs aren't what they used to be and climbing the 7000 Steps takes its toll.

I glanced at Lydia, reaching an understanding.

\- We heard you were hurt, yes. I could make the delivery. 

\- Really? – He blinked - That would be kind of you. Here, take this bag of supplies – He gave me the bag he was carrying, that Lydia quickly took from my hands - At the top of the steps you'll see the offering chest. Just leave the bag inside and you're done.

\- It’s an honor to aid the Great Masters of the Thu’um – expressed Lydia.

\- Yes – I echoed - Anything we should watch out for during the climb? 

\- Well, there's the occasional wolf pack or stray, but that's all I've ever had to deal with. Shouldn't be a problem for the likes of you – He assumed - Other than that, watch your footing. In these wintry conditions, the stairs can be treacherous.

So we put on armor again, covered our backs and noses with the cloaks and started climbing the Throat of the World. 

Lydia was thriving. Apparently, the act of climbing the Seven Thousand Steps held a spiritual significance for many Nords due to the belief that Humanity was created by Kyne on this very mountain, when the sky breathed onto the land. That’s why there were pilgrims from all across Tamriel making this journey. We even met some, meditating or studying the etched tablets. They greeted us cordially, and explained that the ten inscriptions told the story of the birth of Men in a world of dragons, Mundus. The first Pilgrim even pressed me to read that second tablet:

“Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus; The Dragons presided over the crawling masses; Men were weak then, and had no Voice.”

She explained to me that while the dragons respected the strong spirit of Men, they pitied their form. Kyne called Paarthurnax and together they taught the humans to use the Voice. Then, a Dragon War raged, where dragons had to fight both men and other dragons, Dragon against Tongue. But the Men prevailed, shouting Alduin, King of Dragons, out of the world, and from there they founded the First Empire. And history goes on.

As we climbed, the steps got slippery. The snow at the top was rumored to never melt, and I soon found myself tumbling or treading over unsteady terrain. Contrary to what Klimmek said, we had to defend ourselves from more than wolf packs: we ran from a snow bear, and brought down giant spiders similar to the ones I have found in the past, but that Lydia called Frostbite Spiders. Even a creature I only recognized thanks to my readings, a swift, elemental, flying and quick ice creature: Ice Wraiths.

But the worst was the Frost Troll. 

In the distance, I sighted an ape-like creature, with long, muscular arms, a large mouth and horns. Its hide was covered in a thick, shaggy white coat. I stopped moving. Lydia did not, only noticing it too late and making a metallic noise by bumping against my back. The creature turned suddenly to us, face distorted with rage, and I saw it: a third eye in the center of the forehead. There was no doubt now that it really was a Frost Troll, one of the most fearful creatures of Skyrim.

In 3 aggressive moves that left deep footprints in the snow, he was at our side. 

\- Uff! – The impact of his slap squeezed the air out of my lungs. 

\- Dragonb…ah! – I heard Lydia scream in pain.

I struggled in the snow, trying to get back on my feet, no easy task when wearing armor and heavy bags. I unsheathed my sword, just in time to keep the claws of the beast away by slashing its palm. But it had two paws, and responded by hitting me with the other in a quick sequence of attacks that cornered me. I was able to defend from all, but not to flee, and my arm was soon trembling with the effort, each impact sending a wave of pain up to my shoulder. I lost track of time, and was panting without been able to harm it or even try. Worse, I had glimpsed Lydia lying on the floor, not impossibly bent but too close to the precipice. 

But she recovered. 

She shouted as she charged. The troll turned and was able to avoid being impaled, but her sword still sank on its flank. 

The beast roared and showed his mouth too close to her face, yet instead of running away, she roared back. I saw that scene when I managed to escape and was trying to deepen the wound Lydia left on him. “So that’s a Nordic woman”. But the beast moved quickly and for a while, we slashed any area available to us, in a challenge to see whose team would lose stamina first. My left eye was wet and icky, not from the cold blasts – from blood. It seemed to be from my forehead and not from the eye, but I couldn’t be sure. At least the cold deadened the pain…

We made the silent decision of not getting close to each other – that way, the beast had to protect two directions, impossible even for his speed. We were hurting him, but not without damage to ourselves.   
The beast sent Lydia’s sword flying. 

By instinct, I felt myself screaming her name and taking the Axe of Whiterun from my back. I sent it flying in her direction, like it weighed nothing, and she responded likewise, catching it mid-air. She raised it so high that I feared she would fall on her back, but the movement distracted the beast and I couldn’t miss that chance. My sword went deep, until only the cross-guard was outside, and I could see the tip of the blade dropping blood on the other side of the body. The troll’s intestines had been pierced. So did my ears, ringing with the monstrous cries of pain.

Lydia put an end to his torment. 

We could finally surrender. 

I fell on my side, she on her knees, gripping the Axe she dislodged from the body and was serving as support. Her sword was nowhere near, maybe lost on the base of the mountain. I was exhausted.

With clumsy fingers, I took the waterskin from my bag and spilled more than drank. Then started washing the wound in my forehead, chest and shoulder, with the water almost burning in comparison with the outside temperature. I refilled the waterskin with snow, hoping it would really melt, while I spread an ointment on the wounds and then shared it with Lydia. Finally, a messy bandaging. My helmet was almost glued to my head with the blood and dirt. At least I was hairless...

For as tempting as it was to just lie where we were, we couldn’t. This place wasn’t safe. And even if we were lucky and not found by any predators, the cold and the wounds could as easily kill us in this weak state. So we forced ourselves to walk, and to eat some raw meat while doing so. The taste of the blood helped to awake my senses, slightly. 

Finally, we got to the last etched tablet, under a statue of Tiber Septim.

“The Voice is worship; Follow the Inner path; Speak only in True Need.”

A few steps away, the convent of High Hrothgar.


	7. The Way of the Voice

When prostrated at the feet of a great hero, even if it is a statue, one cannot help but feel insignificant. Small. I felt that for sure. But the statue represented Talos, and I suspected my sense of insignificance was due to a greatness I lost, which made me feel even worse and confused, not knowing what happened to make me fall from such a high… and not knowing if any of that was true or just arrogance dominating my thoughts. High-Elves were regarded as having a sense of superiority. Maybe this was the sin I brought from that race…

The High Hrothgar convent made me feel even smaller. It was not as large as Dragonsreach, but the austerity of the stone-blocks made it look more threatening. Not the kind of place one would wish to rest, and yet, so empty of comforts or beauty that it probably made the Greybeards even more detached from the pleasures of life. I could see a chest at the base of the stairways, where we were to put the provisions according to Klimmek, though we could probably just take those inside with us. The stairs lead to the main doors, one at each side of a bigger tower, and the building of perfectly symmetric. There was barely any window, and the few that I could see were made of stained glass that barely allowed light to enter. 

We made a final effort and entered High Hrothgar. 

I blinked, trying to adjust my sight to the darkness. Four people were approaching, slowly, denoting advanced age, and from what I could see, the expected lack of comforts in the room should have had its toll in their health: there were no fireplaces, no pillowed chairs, no tapestries, no paintings, no plants, and the dim light should be really bad for the eyes. Hurt as I was, this wasn’t where I would have chosen to spend the night. 

All individuals were bearded, in fact. They were wearing a grey layered tunic, with a large hood that covered most of their features yet not their age, old like I never saw any Nord be. One of them stood out.

\- So... a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age – He stated, in a low unused voice. I noticed how his right eye had a milky appearance - I am master Arngeir, and I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?

Was that a trick question?

-I'm answering your summons – I tried to convey calm and respect, instead of confusion. Then, showing the supplies, – And to bring you this. You call me Dragonborn, but what does it mean? 

\- First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn. We will see if you have the gift. – He asked, and paused. I was expecting them to clear the area for me to Shout, but they didn’t move. I was about to explain to them what I needed when a kind smile reached his face - Do not be afraid. Your Shout will not harm us. Strike us with the power of your Voice. Shout at us, and let us taste your Voice.

Despite what he said, I was still afraid, but I decided to trust them. I inhaled, and tried to remember how I Shouted before. I focused on the buzzing of thoughts and words in my mind, focused on the idea of “Unrelenting Force” and found the one that I wanted: “Fus”. I lowered all the other words, and the shout seemed louder and louder, too loud to stay in my head. I opened my mouth.

\- Fus!

My mouth expelled a wall of air and, for a moment, I was grateful that there were no decorations inside the convent. As the Greybeards told me, they weren’t affected by the shout, and I heard Lydia gasp behind me. 

Arngeir bowed his head.

\- Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar.

In some time, they were showing us the place, where we could eat and spend the night. I and Lydia were granted a separate, small room, with two bedrolls on the floor, a jar with water, a small bathtub, and a low table where two plates with fish were set, along with two glasses of water. No doubt conditions as good as those of our hosts. The only room that intrigued me was the one with long stone tables joined in a square around the fireplace in the middle, and stone chairs, more than the number of Greybeards. More a less like a war room, but without the maps, war plans or commanders. There was a library with very old tomes, some damaged by time beyond repair, and yet all as preserved as possible. I was also shown the patio, from where I could see magical gates opening and closing on their own, and a path to the top of the mountain.

Lydia remained silent, but she was probably as curious as I was. I decided to do both of us a favor and abuse my position to ask all the questions that came to my mind. 

\- You told me your name, Master, but who are you all? What makes this place so special for you to live in seclusion here? 

\- We are the Greybeards, followers of the Way of the Voice – That much I knew… -, according to the teachings of our founder, Jurgen Windcaller. Very few are permitted to study with us here at High Hrothgar. But in your case, Dragonborn, it is a privilege to guide you towards the mastery of your Voice. You stand on the slopes of Kynareth's sacred mountain. Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve the balance between our inner and outer selves. We are honored to welcome a Dragonborn into our ways - He repeated, his words clear in the midst of the wind as if his voice was stronger than the elements. And maybe it was - We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny.

\- What is my destiny? - I wondered, eager for any hint about what was expected of me. 

\- That is for you to discover. We can show you the Way, but not your destination.

\- That… - I reflected on what he said – makes sense, even if I wished to know more about what I have to do. – “They don’t know about my future. Do they know about my past?”. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what my past was, not yet. And whatever the case, my answer was the same - I'm ready to learn. 

\- You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift – He proclaimed, in the tone people use when they are going to add what is missing - But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen… Now, is there something else you wish to have answered? 

I nodded, feeling that it would be inappropriate to speak aloud unless necessary. 

\- Why don't the others talk? 

\- Their Voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the Way to withstand. Even a whisper could kill you.

\- There are only four of you? – This question specifically has been nagging me. 

\- Five. Our leader, Paarthurnax, lives alone on the peak of the Throat of the World. When your Voice can open the path, you will know you are ready to speak to him. 

Open the path, huh? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was starting to see the potential of the Voice. That made me want to know more. I was also interested in the life philosophy of the Greybeards.

\- You mentioned a Jurgen Windcaller before, as the founder of your Way. What can you tell me about him? 

\- He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, a master of the Voice, or Tongue. After the disaster at Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat. He finally came to realize that the gods had punished the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice. He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the glory and worship of the gods, not the glory of men. Jurgen Windcaller's mastery of the Voice eventually overcame all opposition, and the Way of the Voice was born.

\- Alright… - So that implied that The Greybeards believed in the gods, possibly all of the nine. It also implied that whatever my gift was, it came with a certain responsibility - What is the "Way of the Voice"? 

\- The Voice was a gift of the goddess Kynareth, at the dawn of time. She gave the mortals the ability to speak as dragons do. Although this gift has often been misused, the only true use of the Voice is for the worship and glory of the gods. True mastery of the Voice can only be achieved when your inner spirit is in harmony with your outward actions. In the contemplation of the sky, Kynareth's domain, and the practice of the Voice, we strive to achieve this balance.

\- But I don't follow your philosophy. Why help me learn the Voice? 

\- The Dragonborn is an exception to all the rules. The Dragon Blood itself is a gift of the gods. If we accept one gift, how can we deny the other? As Dragonborn, you have received the ability to Shout directly from Akatosh. We, therefore, seek to guide you on the proper use of your gift, which transcends the restrictions that bind other mortals.

\- I’m thankful for being an exception, but I will still try to follow the Way of the Voice - I assured him.

\- That is commendable. But remember, do not try to deny that gift. Your destiny requires you to use your Voice. Why else would Akatosh have bestowed this power upon you? If you remember to use your Voice in service to the purpose of Akatosh, you will remain true to the Way.

\- But to serve Akatosh, I think I should first find out what the god wants me to do - I tried to insist, but his answer was as impassive and unhelpful as before. 

\- We are here to guide you in that pursuit, just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you. More, we cannot do.

I felt my mouth hang open, and my heart skipped a beat. 

\- You mean... I'm not the only Dragonborn? 

\- You are not the first. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind, including Tiber Septim. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age... that is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say.

After that, we were encouraged to rest. I couldn’t bring myself to wash, so I just checked that my wounds were properly clean and fell asleep. I didn’t even see what Lydia was doing. The next morning, I felt bad for not checking on her, but the woman was tough and already awake, guarding me even in this isolated place. I washed, ate and treated my wounds, with some remedies and new bandages. This morning, I felt like complaining: the water for the bath was cold, the fish was poorly cooked, and my wounds hurt. Then I went to The Greybeards, who were meditating on their knees, and they interrupted it to explain how my training would proceed. 

During the following days, after waking up, I started the day by stretching, according to the routine the Greybeards created and did alongside me. It hurt a bit, but if those old men could do it, so could I. I even invited Lydia to do it with me, and after a week I was already seeing the results. But it was about more than results. In tiring the body, people tended to hide in their minds and not concentrate too long in a specific logical path, entering in the right state for meditation, that occupied the rest of the morning. After a small meal, we would train our shouts, and meditate again. This kind of meditation was different, because the goal was to meditate about a word of power, try to understand it, to “become the word” as Arngeir put it. Finally, the last part of the day was also composed of a meal and by studying the books in the library, to gain knowledge that would help me understand the world and therefore the words that gave it shape. 

It was boring, in the beginning. I would rather spend time with my daughter, fighting or… well, not here. Partly because this wouldn’t make me a legend immediately. And yet, as I went every night to bed sweating, I started to understand the effort and dedication that the Way of the Voice required. I started to… change. My body started obeying me in different ways, not only in strength and speed like before, but in flexibility and in keeping away the pain, and even my wounds became insignificant. The way the world worked started making sense, a sense in its own complexity. I stopped caring about material things, not disliking them, but redeeming it as unnecessary and a luxury. I changed, even in ways I couldn’t define, not with human words, not with dragon words. My inner and outer self was slowly becoming one and the same. 

On the first nights, I was so tired that I fell immediately in sleep, but with time, sleep became a state that I knew, and could choose to embrace when I wished. Sometimes, I simply laid there, wondering about things, and Lydia kept me company, even when I insisted that she should just rest.

\- You know – I joked one night – I’m starting to get the feeling that you only obey me when you want, and then you say the “I’m sworn to carry your burdens” and bla bla just to convince me I’m actually obeyed.

\- Oh, no, my Thane, I really am sworn to serve you – Was her dry answer.

\- See? That’s exactly what I’m… - Was what I saw in her eyes… amusement? – Wait… You’re, hum, being sarcastic?

She turned her face to the other side, suddenly shy. I straight out laughed.

\- Haha, wow, I didn’t know you had it in you! – I covered my mouth, trying to stop the torrent of giggles – Just look at me, laughing so hard for something like this. I’ve really lived in this convent for too long!

\- I’m glad I made you laugh then, my Thane – Now that I noticed it for the first time, it was impossible to not detect a hint of sarcasm every time she said my title. She dared to face in my direction again – And I agree you have been here for long. Your hair needs a haircut, and unless you intend to let it grow, I could assist you if you wish.

I stretched, and got closer to her, trying to look deep into her eyes.

\- Now for real. I know for a fact that you are sworn to serve me – I stated, and she finally met my gaze – but do you like your job? Or is it something that you secretly despise?

She smiled, the sweetest I’ve ever seen her, another demonstration of emotions I already thought lost on her. 

\- Oh, I do like it. Don’t worry, my Thane – I shuddered at the title, and she even laughed softly – it’s a position I fought for, and the fact that you are Dragonborn will certainly make my life interesting. 

\- So, that’s all that you wanted? The opportunities opened by my titles? – Realizing how that sounded, I wanted to bite my words back – Sorry, that came out wrong…Humm… - My mind raced for a better way of framing the question – Even if you only wanted those opportunities, that would be perfectly fine and I'm sure you deserve it. Maybe even more… than me. But, what I wanted to say is that I, hum… wanted to see you more like a, well, friend. 

Her expression, that had turned to fear upon my accusation, softened again. She laid on her bedroll, now meeting my eyes from the same level.

\- I would like that – She confessed, in a whisper.

I smiled.

\- When I said that my life would be more interesting at your service, I wasn’t referring to meeting important people – Explained Lydia – I was referring to exploring all sorts of places with the confidence I would protect and be protected by you, to see the beautiful treasures of Skyrim without worrying about its dangers and darkness. I was referring to the opportunity to witness how the person I serve will shape history, but also how you will help the small people. Like Lucia.

That last mention intrigued me, and I pillowed my head with my arms, lying with my belly down. I lowered my voice, to match her tone and don’t ruin the moment. 

\- Does Lucia meant that much to you for any particular reason?

\- I… was an orphan, too. – She fell in silence for so long that I feared she wouldn’t continue. Maybe she didn’t want to continue. Or maybe she was just measuring her next words, or lost in her own memories. For all those minutes, I breathed as silently as I could, afraid that any sound might disrupt what we had – I didn’t have anyone to me like you are to Lucia. I didn’t have a home, not even distant relatives that I knew. So I had to learn how to defend myself, and that’s what made me realize I could live of it, I could live of fighting. It was the only thing I was good at, and the only thing I had the disposition to do – She was spilling her words at increasing speed - If that got me anywhere in life, that would be good, but if not, and even if I died, I really hadn’t anything to lose. So my strength in battle took me to Whiterun, to be a member under Irileth’s command. She was the one who saw that my fighting was completely reckless, and broke it so that she could teach me the foundations – I heard her laugh – I hated her at the time. I thought she was just trying to prevent me from getting further in life. But I’ve carried her teaching ever since, and they have proven to be right. She is really able to judge a person correctly and what choices she has after assessing the situation. I respect her a lot, as all soldiers do, and after understanding how right she always was, I became one of her best apprentices. So, now I’m here. And I have a home, both physical and…

The way she looked at me, how she left her incomplete sentence hung in the air… It took my breath away. I was on the verge of tears. The truth simply came to my lips.

\- I’m glad I’m your home.

She nodded, and each of us kept staring at the ceiling for a while, in comfortable silence, thinking. The presence of the other was enough. I was really, really glad. I was someone she could be grateful for, and I was also grateful to have her: she was the first person to ever see me as I was, neither man nor woman, neither elf nor human, and she accompanied me during this first stage of my journey.

\- Lydia? – I received a “hum” showing she was still awake – It’s in times like this that I wish to be able to share more about myself, if I knew it. I think you know everything already… But, now, I feel really inspired by what you told me. You picked yourself from the ground as a child, and made a name for yourself. That’s exactly what I want to do. I don’t need my past to build my future, right? Do you think… do you think I can do it?

I couldn't see her face, but there was no hesitation in her answer:

\- I don’t doubt it in the slightest, my Thane. 

And this time, the title wasn’t sarcastic. 

* * *

One afternoon, Arngeir was waiting for me in the patio, not unlike when he had something new to teach me. But this time, the other Greybeards were close, looking at me. 

\- Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um, a Shout. In coming to us, during the past weeks, you showed that you were willing and able to learn. Now that you have trained, we have a different test for you – He didn’t need to tell me to follow him. We neared the magical gates, the ones that closed very quickly. Arngeir turned to me again. - When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power, therefore, as you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger. Before your new test, we have a gift for you. Master Einarth will now teach you "Ro," the second Word in Unrelenting Force, and let you tap into his understanding. Ro means "Balance" in the dragon tongue. Combine it with Fus, the word for “Force" that you already know, to focus your Thu'um more sharply.

Einarth shouted to the ground, imprinting the word in the snow, something I didn’t know that was possible. Even after several weeks, there was so much I didn’t know… The words were glowing, and I kneeled in front of it, closing my eyes. I felt my mind pull it towards me, a familiar sensation running through my body, breathless for a moment. 

When the sensation passed, I got up, hearing the echoes of the new word in my mind. The word seemed different from Fus – it was not pressing to be freed nor pushing my brain with strength, but made me feel in harmony within myself and with the world. After what I’ve studied, I knew that what I felt was the effect of having become that word. This, this harmony, was what Balance felt like. I opened my mouth, shouting only that word. Nothing visible happened, and yet, I could sense the peace in our group. But what if I combined that word with Fus? That meant the force of the first word would probably disrupt the balance, giving precisely the opposite effect... 

Arngeir showed awe in his eyes, so quickly replaced with acceptance that I almost wondered if I was dreaming about his showing such strong emotions.

\- You learn a new word like a master... you truly do have the gift. But learning a Word of Power is only the first step... you must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain dragon's life force and knowledge directly. As part of your initiation, let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu'um. Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear. 

I didn’t know what I was being tested for. Would I become a member of the Greybeards if I passed? For as much as I conformed with their way of life by now, I still had things I wanted to experience outside of the convent. But those doubts passed through my mind without nesting there. I concentrated on the task at hands, on the targets created by the other masters, by shouting “Fiik... Lo...Sah!”. I didn’t understand those words yet, but that didn’t matter. At each target created, a ghost of the person who shouted it, I combined the two words I understood: 

\- Fus… Ro!

After three attempts, I felt as exhausted as if I had been running. But Master Arngeir was satisfied with my demonstration.

\- Impressive. Your Thu'um is precise. You show great promise, Dragonborn. As a second test, we will now see how you learn a completely new Shout. Master Borri will teach you "Wuld," which means "Whirlwind.”

It was Borri’s turn to imprint the shout in the snow: "Wuld..." As with the other word, I kneeled and absorbed its power, its meaning. This word felt similar to Fus, but not as strong or hurtful. More like a breeze carrying leaves.

\- You must hear the word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu'um – Reinforced Arngeir - Master Borri will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint. Then it will be your turn. Master Borri? – He requested.

Borri waited in front of the gates, and shouted when they opened: "Wuld... Nah...Kest!". I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was carried ahead, and crossed all of the gates several seconds before they closed. And the Greybeards expected me to do the same.

\- Now it is your turn. Stand next to me. Use your Whirlwind Sprint to pass through the first gate before it closes.

I cleared my mind, and focused on the new word. I was on my tiptoes before knowing, as if impelled front. As I opened my mouth to shout, I felt something pick me off the ground and get me through the first gate, not as quickly as Master Borri, but still way before it closed. It was so fast that almost made me dizzy.

I went around the gates – they weren’t exactly in a wall or room – back to Arngeir. This time, his surprise was even more evident. 

\- Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is... astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself...

\- I thought it was this easy for everyone – I admitted – Before the training, I mean. I don't know how I do it. It just happens. 

\- No. Indeed is not easy. You were given this gift by the gods for a reason. It is up to you to figure out how to best use it. Beware that your skill does not outstrip your wisdom, but you are now ready for your last trial... 

We all followed him to the library, where he showed me a worn illustration in a tome, and a map where a location between Morthal and Dawnstar was marked.

\- Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav – Was all that he told me of the test - Remain true to the Way of the Voice… and you will return.  
He was solemn.

This test was going to be hard. It would certainly require all I have learned here, and from my experience with tombs, it would also require my warrior skills. 

\- Surely there's more you can tell me – I tried to insist.

\- There is indeed much that we know that you do not. That does not mean that you are ready to understand it. Do not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into the arrogance of power that has been the downfall of many Dragonborn before you – Arngeir advised.

That made me reflect. I decided it was wise to not try to rob more information about my test or new abilities I could use, and instead use this last opportunity to understand more about my role in the world. Lydia was more relaxed around the Greybeards now, and I sat at her side, crossing my hands as I wondered what exactly I could ask. It came to me that I didn’t know a very important thing.

\- What does it mean to be "Dragonborn"? 

Master Arngeir nodded slowly, approving the complexity of my question. And yet…

\- I’m afraid I cannot tell you anything new. Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their Voice, and are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren. A few mortals are born with similar abilities. Whether a gift or a curse, has been a matter of debate down through the centuries. What you have already learned in a few days took even the most gifted of us years to achieve. Some believe that a Dragonborn is sent into the world by the gods, at times of great need. What is the need of this time? Are you meant to confront it? We will speak more of that later, when you are ready.

\- I see. Why are Shouts in the dragon language? I understand it is a projection of their Voice, but how have they made Shouts just by mixing their words and..? – I was complicating. Speaking too loud, too much. I left the question at that point. Still, Arngeir answered.

\- Dragons have always been able to Shout. Their language, Dovahzul, is intrinsic to their very being. There is no difference in the dragon tongue between debating and fighting, so, shouting comes as naturally to a dragon as breathing, or speaking. In mythic times, when mortalkind was in great need, the goddess Kynareth granted us the ability to speak as dragons do. For most people, long years of training are required to learn even the simplest Shout. But for you, the dragon speech is in your blood, and you learn it almost without effort.

\- Why are the dragons returning? Does it have something to do with me? 

\- No doubt. The appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is not an accident. Your destiny is surely bound up with the return of the dragons, even if we are going to talk more about that only after you return, as I told you. You should focus on honing your Voice, and soon your path will be made clear.

\- Thank you, Master. I will continue to follow the Way in my travels. 

\- Good. Then you will be ready for whatever lies ahead.

I and Lydia packed. It felt strange to wear armor again, to be burneded with so many things that I didn’t need at the moment and maybe wouldn’t need in the future. When I last saw the Greybeards, the three masters that couldn’t speak finally said one thing to me: “Dovahkiin”. The dragon word for Dragonborn.

And Arngeir? He also had one thing to tell me:

\- Sky above, Voice within.

Halfway down the climb, it occurred to me that the Greybeards never asked for my name. And yet, they always looked like they knew who I was.

At least, with more certainty than me…


	8. Juggling with danger

To be traveling again showed me that, while my understanding of the world was now bigger, The Greybeards would never have the wisdom of experience. Nor did I think they should have it. But my life shouldn’t be molded as a copy of theirs. So when I finally reached Ivarstead again, my plans went beyond what The Greybeards asked of me: I was so close to Riften, that I wanted to see it. And from there, I would travel to Windhelm and see Ulfric again, to judge him and his rebellion properly. This war wouldn’t wait for me, so I better make up my mind. 

My daughter, on the other hand, had been waiting for me for a long time now, and I didn’t want her to fear for my death, or worse in some ways, abandonment. So I asked Lydia to return to Whiterun and wait for me there, and to promise my daughter that she would be proud of mommy. 

\- My Thane, I mean no disrespect, but I fear the dangers you may encounter in your journeys.

\- And I in yours – I replied, knowing well that there was no point in asking her to cut the formalities when we were in public. It was the one thing where Lydia wouldn’t obey me – but I think it’s the best of everyone, and you’re doing me a huge favor by checking on my daughter. Please, Lydia – I looked at her – you’re the only person I could really trust to care for Lucia as I do. I’ll be home as soon as I can, and I’m not traveling far. Besides, I’m a trained Dragonborn now – I winked, placing a smile on her face.

\- I… suppose we are both more powerful now. And I trust you. Far well, my Thane.

I sensed her looking at my back until she couldn’t follow anymore. Was that sensation granted by my Dragonborn powers? Humm… no. No, I think that came from knowing a person well enough. From living with a person, maybe even incorporate some of their habits or values in my life. Did I ever have someone like that?

I had lots of time to think during my travels, even to meditate. I also found, on the road to Riften, a curious alchemist (and her sister) that told me tales of a Crimson Nirnroot – a plant already rare on its own, yet Avrusa Sarethi managed to cultivate the typical variation in her farm. According to her, the Crimson Nirnroot grew up in a place usually referred to as Blackreach, an underground city that had a peculiar ecosystem and Dwemmer buildings in its midst. Most people thought the city was a legend, but not this alchemist, no. 

Finally, I found Riften. 

The first thing I noticed was how big the Lake Honrich was, with a good portion of the city spilling over the water atop large wooden piers. After visiting the meadery and the fishery, I was “politely” declined entrance by the guards in one of the entries, who told me I had to use a specific gate. The “why” was made clear in an instant: everyone had to pay a “visitor’s tax” for the pleasure of visiting the city.

\- Look, this is obviously a shakedown – I told them, arms crossed. They panicked.

\- Alright, alright, you can enter but keep it quiet. We don’t want the entire city to hear you – Said one of them, fumbling with the keys. 

"Well, this was easy." Was I that intimidating? I was already inside the walls.

I had to admit: the city lived up to its reputation. That meant it was dirty, crowded and full of unpleasant smells: rat waste, piss, fish… And the behavior of the people was equally unclean, full of schemes and suspicion. The only people I found that could be considered kind and pure-hearted were the priests of Mara, who readily told me about the goddess of love and how their temple housed the most beautiful weddings. Despite the way they “encouraged” me to donate, they still looked like a sunray in this city. 

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there was the infamous Black-Briar… and the Thieves Guild. 

The first time I heard about the Thieves Guild was when I overheard a conversation between a woman in iron armor and a man crouched with a resigned expression.

\- I had another run-in with the Thieves Guild – Was saying the woman. 

\- Be careful, Mjoll. The Thieves Guild has Maven Black-Briar at her back. One snap of her fingers, and you could end up in Riften Jail... – the man hesitated - or worse.

\- They represent the reason I'm here. I can't just ignore them, Aerin – Mjoll threw her hands in the air.

\- I know. I just don't want you to leave; you're the only good thing that's happened to this city in a long time.

There was clear affection there, but what stroke me as the secret for their relationship was the respect between them. I couldn’t hear the rest, but everything in their postures and effort to understand each other showed me two people capable of going to great lengths for the other. They parted with discreet smiles – maybe they have reached a consensus?   
When I was passing by Mjoll, the blonde woman made a comment including me.

\- Visitors like us are rare in this part of Skyrim.

I could understand how she recognized me as a visitor – she probably knew most of the people in this city and, even if she didn’t, people usually didn’t wear armor in their own cities. She had blue eyes and a strange tattoo that covered half of her face. 

\- You're not from Riften? – I asked stupidly, but she simply nodded.

\- I've been adventuring across Tamriel since I was a fresh-faced young woman, barely able to swing a blade. My travels have taken me from High Rock to Valenwood, Elsweyr to Morrowind and all points in between. I’m Mjoll. You?

\- … Talos – The name caused little surprise. Good. - Why are you here, then? 

\- Oh, it’s a long story. Many years ago, I lost my blade, "Grimsever," within a Dwarven ruin. I took it as a sign that I was wasting my time in search of wealth. You and I are alike. We seek challenge and great fortune. But for me, that's where the similarities end - She straightened - You see, Riften is my great beast to be slain and my fortune comes from gratitude and trust.

\- I’m not so sure that makes us different – I retorted - I’m Thane of Whiterun. And while I suppose I slay beasts in the more literal sense, I’m happy with just helping people in their daily problems. 

\- Oh, you’re a Thane?! Well, you’re very far from Whiterun, but I’m happy to know that its citizens can count on you. But I’ve been to Whiterun, and unless it has changed, it’s nothing like Riften. You’ll see. In time.

\- Humm… - While thinking about the veiled advice to stay far from here, I searched for something to say - What happened to your blade? Grimsever, right? – I bit my lip, offering apologies in case I messed up.

\- Haha, yes, you got the name right. It was lost years ago in a Dwemer ruin, and now rests within Mzinchaleft. Without it, I feel almost as defenseless as a newborn. I don't think I'll ever be able to find a replacement.

\- What happened to you in Mzinchaleft?

\- I was adventuring in the depths of the ruin when I was attacked by a massive construct... like nothing I had ever seen. When the colossus struck, Grimsever was knocked from my grasp and I was wounded badly. It was only through blind luck I was able to crawl away from the Dwemer abomination and make my way to the surface. I must have collapsed, because the next thing I remember is Aerin standing over me tending to my wounds. You don’t know him, but he is my best friend. We have lived together for years now.

\- I’m happy that you can count on someone just like this city can count on you – I said, sincerely – About your blade… I could find it for you. 

She laughed, and I let her. Realizing I was serious, her laughs died.

\- I couldn't ask you to undertake such a treacherous journey, it would be a fool's errand! Oh, but I see that spark in your eye and I know better than to warn you away. Tread carefully, friend... those same ruins almost took my life. I don't wish to be the reason for your death.

\- I won’t die in a ruin. If anything, my death will be caused by dragons. I’m the Dragonborn, you see… - Saying this out loud was simultaneously strange and a relief. 

\- You… - Her eyes went wide. She looked to both sides and hesitated, lowering her voice – Not here. But if you are telling the truth, as I believe you are, you shouldn’t say that where anyone can hear you. Not in this city, at least. It’s information people could easily turn against you, either by asking you “favors”… or by considering you a threat. Most of all, don’t say that near people with that uniform.

She pointed to a dark-haired woman across a bridge dressed in a leather grey uniform, a hand holding the shoulder of a Redguard, not in a comforting way but more like a claw buried there. 

I reclined myself against Mjoll and whispered a question in her ear.

\- Who is she?

\- Sapphire. A member of the Thieves Guild. And that man, Shadr, was and still is one of the Guild’s victims. 

We pretended to be distracted and with a destination in mind, and slowly crossed the bridge. Sapphire was trying to intimidate Shadr.

\- I'm really getting tired of your excuses. When you borrowed the money, you said you'd pay it back on time for double the usual fee.

\- I know I did. But how was I supposed to know the shipment would get robbed? – He defended. 

\- Next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it.

I realized what happened at the same time as Shadr, and exchanged a horrified look with Mjoll. Her face conveyed well her answer: “I told you so”.

\- What? Are you saying you robbed it? – Exclaimed Shadr, louder - Why? Why are you doing this to me?

\- Look, Shadr. Last warning. Pay up or else. All I care about is the gold. Everything else is your problem.

That wasn’t right. I waited for Sapphire to leave – she entered The Bee and Barb Inn – and went straight to Shadr, startling him.

\- I thought it was Sapphire – He explained – What is it? Do I know you?

\- What kind of trouble are you in?

\- I owe a great deal of money to someone and I think they cheated me. I don't know what to do.

\- Tell me the details. 

Trust me or not? I could see him weighing the options, but he needed help and I knew was eager to put the burden onto someone else. It wasn’t something I learned with the Greybeards… it was just the way most people were. He made up his mind and started vomiting the history of the problem, even things I didn’t need to know.

\- I was able to work out a deal with the stables in Whiterun to sell me some of their tack and harnesses. I borrowed some gold from Sapphire to pay for the shipment, but it got robbed before it even arrived. Now Sapphire wants her money back, and if I don't pay her, I think she's going to kill me.

\- You forgot this: She was the one who robbed you. I overheard.

Shadr seemed perturbed.

\- Yes, well. That’s the way of the Guild. They are always trying to “teach lessons” to punish problems they make up to avoid declining even more. 

\- And those punishments include killing? The only Guild I ever knew to kill people was the Dark Brotherhood – There were thousands of books about it.

\- I’m not sure, if someone was killed they couldn’t exactly tell how it went – He said frustrated – But I know there will be consequences. There always is. 

\- We will do what we can – Offered Mjoll, now at my side. I agreed. 

\- Thank you, Mjoll – He said.

When we were going towards the Inn, a black-haired Nord bumped against me, hard. I ignored his protest.

In the Inn, I dodged the Argonian Innkeepers and told Mjoll to let me try speaking with the thief alone, since she lived here and was already a known enemy of the Thieves Guild. Me, on the other hand, was just an arrogant stranger trying to save the city. She agreed, so I went to speak to Sapphire, resting with her back against the wall. 

\- I wanted to talk about Shadr's debt – I confronted her. 

\- I knew that stupid kid would try and find a way to weasel out of his debt – She mumbled to herself - Look, this is really simple. I lent him some gold, he promised to pay me back and now he says he's broke. End of story – I could see her evaluating my armor and strength.

\- You and I both know this is a setup – I pressed.

\- All right, all right. I guess I made enough from his shipment, and I’m wasting my time threatening a stable hand. Still, a deal is a deal. 

\- How much is his debt after what you made from his shipment? 

\- 120 septims – She raised an eyebrow - Don’t tell me…

\- I'll just pay it off for him. 

I took the coins from my purse – that suddenly became almost empty, not that money had much use on the road – and put it in her unsure hands. She finally shrugged: 

\- Don't know why you'd help a stranger like that, but a septim's a septim... don't care where it comes from. You can tell Shadr his debt's been paid.

When I was returning to Mjoll, I found her near the entrance door, talking defensively with the same man that bumped against me a few minutes back. He spotted me and moved away from Riften’s protector, who searched for my eyes with worry on hers. 

\- Get over here, I want to talk to you – Requested the man. I did, keeping a straight back to avoid showing fear. The Inn was almost empty, so the few clients present, the Innkeepers and even Sapphire were paying attention to the spectacle. My brain couldn’t help but notice how funny it was that our armors were exactly the same model and both in steel, just with minor differences to fit our sizes - I don't know you. You in Riften lookin' for trouble?

\- Just passing through – I admitted, glad to be telling the truth. The man looked like he could smell lies. 

\- Yeah? Well, I got news for you: there's nothing to see here. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some stranger stickin' their nose where it doesn't belong.

\- I’m more than some stranger – I crossed my hands - The Black-Briars, on the other hand, I never heard about. You sure they are important?

He was breathing so heavily by the nose in an effort to keep control, that I could see his nostrils expand. He looked like a bull ready to charge.

\- The Black-Briars have Riften in their pocket, and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back – He stated with his hoarse voice. Sapphire yawned and exited the Inn, not subtle at all - so keep your nose out of their business. Me? I'm Maul. I watch the streets for 'em. If you need dirt on anythin', I'm your guy... but it'll cost you.

This guy could actually be useful. The problem was that I wasn’t in a position to get rid of more money. What could he value instead? The Axe of Whiterun was out of the question. And I doubted he would value my potions as much as I did…

I blinked. The answer was obvious.

\- Information in exchange for information. And as proof of my goodwill, I’ll advance some for free in case you know what this axe represents – I showed him the golden Axe, and caught a glimpse of recognition and amusement in his eyes.

\- Pleasure doin' business with you – He said, pointing to a corner with his chin. As we went for a discreet table and shouted for mead, I saw Mjoll abandon me to my luck. Was that because I was going against her counsel, sharing information so lightly? Or because she hated Maul and didn’t want me to relate with his kind of people? I needed to clarify my intentions with her later. Now, I should focus on Maul, otherwise my tongue would probably slip - So, what do you want to know?

\- Tell me more about the Black-Briars – I asked simply.

\- Well, you got Maven, she pretty much runs the whole operation. She's got friends in high places if you know what I mean. She's also got ties to the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild, as I told you before, so basically no one can touch her. Her children Hemming and Ingun are also to be respected, and even Sibbi, who’s in prison, retains some of his influence. Just remember, if she tells you to do somethin'... you damn well better do exactly what she says – One Argonian placed the mead in our tables as Maul left the threat in the air, and I picked the mug to hid my expressions behind it as I drank. The flavor… was different from what I expected. I usually wasn’t a big fan of drinks, but this one was good, more sweet and strong at the same time. This time, when I looked at Maul, his smile reached the mouth – And this – he picked his mug – is Black-Briar’s mead, her secret recipe. 

But if it had been poison, the problem would be mine. I close my eyes for a few seconds, and let my thoughts disperse just like when I was meditating, keeping myself collected. That ruined the fun for him, and was a small victory for me.

\- Know anything about the Thieves Guild? – I continued, as if there was no silent duel between us. 

\- You kiddin'? My brother Dirge works in their hideout. I used to run with them myself, but took a job with Maven after they started hittin' a rough patch. If you want to get in on that action, find Brynjolf in the marketplace. I'm sure he could use someone like you.

\- Any news involving the Dark Brotherhood? Any relation between the two Guilds? Just today I heard that the Thieves Guild possibly kills people – I wanted to know how afraid I should be for my life.

\- Nah, there’s no relation at all, unless of opposition to each other. Killing is against the Thieves Guild rules, something I trust you will keep between us. About the other guild, the only thing I heard is a rumor that a boy named Aventus Aretino, in Windhelm, has been attempting to contact the Dark Brotherhood. He used to live here in Riften at the Orphanage on the other side of town, but I think he ran away. Can't say I blame him. – He finished his ale – Your turn now. How did a high-elf become the Thane of Whiterun? Or is that stolen?

\- I’m not a high-elf, only half. And this is not stolen. This was granted to me because of my service to Whiterun… related to dragons. 

\- Ha. So… you’re telling me dragons are real? Should I believe the rumors about Helgen?

\- You should, because I was there. To be decapitated, just like Ulfric Stromcloak – I paused, appreciating the anticipation in his eyes – when a dragon landed on one of the towers, attacking Imperials and Stormcloaks while burning the village to the ground. I, just like many others, used the opportunity to escape. 

\- Yet you were one of the few successful, and decided to bring the news to Jarl Balgruuf in exchange for a purse of coin, because money is always good – Not exactly, but I let him take his own conclusions. He reclined on his chair – But that’s not how you got that. 

\- No. I got this by helping the guards slay a dragon that attacked the city, since I was the only person with experience. A different dragon from the first, mind you. Guess I’m lucky, for surviving the beasts twice.

It was my turn to finish the drink and put the mug down with a loud sound. Maul was pondering on what I told him.

\- That’s hard to believe. But I do, and it’s valuable information indeed. If Maven rewards me, I may even split something with you. Damn… The next thing you know, there will be Dragonborns in the world! Just our luck…

He may confirm that in the future, but not from me. In this, I would follow Mjoll advice. 

I didn’t find her outside, so I went to tell Shadr that his debt was paid and then to see the goods at the market. I spoke with the merchants and even proposed to do favors for some of them, that could or could not grant me discounts. The same for the blacksmith, that I visited for sharpening my blades, and for the alchemist in the underground level, built over unstable wood platforms. In the market, another stranger approached me, in the uniform of the Thieves Guild. 

\- Never done an honest day's work in your life for all that coin you're carrying, eh lad?

\- I'm sorry, what? – Just… what?

\- I'm saying you've got the coin, but you didn't earn a septim of it honestly. I can tell.

\- How could you possibly know that? – He couldn’t tell it very well, since my purse was almost empty, but by now I was used to people assuming things about me.

\- It's all about sizing up your mark, lad. The way they walk, what they're wearing. It's a dead giveaway.

\- Well, I have to agree with the expression, “dead” giveaway. At least, if you count looting Nordic tombs as theft – He sized me again, possibly realizing by now I was more of a warrior than a thief, but I didn’t give him time to rethink - What do you have in mind? – I wasn’t really willing to join the guild, in case that was the proposal, but this was a good opportunity to study how it operated. Besides, if I didn’t do what he wanted, someone else would. It was better if I at least seemed trustful. 

\- I've got a bit of an errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well-paid. I’m assuming you can be more discreet than that, you know? No flashy armors, but keep the ready movements.

\- What do I have to do? 

\- Simple.... I'm going to cause a distraction and you're going to steal Madesi's silver ring from a strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing.

\- Why plant the ring on Brand-Shei? – Both Madesi and Brand-Shei were merchants. I had just promised to help Brand-Shei recover a piece of his past, a journal written by his father that would confirm if he was really a descendant of house Telvanni in Morrowind. How could I have refused? After all, it was something that would mean a lot to me, to find a hint about my own past. I wouldn’t put up with hurting the dunmer.

\- There's someone that wants to see him put out of business permanently, to make sure he remembers not to meddle in affairs that aren't his own. Now, since we're not the Dark Brotherhood, we're not going to kill him, we're just going to make him sit in the prison for a few days. That's all you need to know. Now, you tell me when you're ready and we'll get started.

\- How am I supposed to do all of this? - I asked

\- Do you want me to hold your hand as well? You're going to have to sneak to Madesi's stall and use your lockpick on the strongbox. Then when you have the ring, you pickpocket Brand-Shei and leave it behind.

\- I'm not sure… 

I still felt bad about doing that to the dunmer, even if it wasn’t a lasting consequence. I asked if I could answer in the next morning, and Brynjolf – the man that offered the partnership – acquiesced. An insistent part of me wanted to go tell Mjoll of the plan, so that she could try to free Brand-Shei later, but to go running to her would denounce my intentions of betraying the Guild. I decided to go to the tavern instead. 

The kind innkeepers were apparently a couple, and I was happy to see that in this city, the Argonians were relatively accepted – relatively, because the Jarl and her family supported the Stormcloaks and the idea that “Skyrim belongs to the Nords”. I also spoke with a girl named Svana who was enjoying what she called one of her rare pauses. According to her, she was the niece of Haelga – a blonde woman seated really close to a man people called Hemming, that I recognized from Maul’s description as a Black-Briar – and basically her slave. When I suggested there must have something we could do, however, she wished for vengeance instead of freedom, and her particular plan consisted of basically slut-shaming Haelga for practicing the “Dibella arts”. She wanted to “make her squirmish” by confronting Haelga with the jewels she gifted the men she bedded. In sum, I wasn’t sure if Svana was as innocent and mistreated as she initially appeared, and refused her proposal. 

Suddenly, a woman in rich clothes and pitch-black hair entered the tavern and everyone went silent. She went straight to Haelga, who slid a palm away from Hemming but confronted the gaze of the woman. The wealthy woman didn’t have to raise her voice to be heard in the entire room.

\- Haelga, I like you, so I'm only going to say this one time – She calmly explained, with the predatory patience of a cat - If you ever try and "practice the Dibellan arts" with Hemming again, I'll make sure that pretty little face loses its beauty.

Haelga was stupidly courageous. 

\- He wasn't protesting, Maven.

\- Of course he wasn't, you stupid whore; he's a man – Hemming didn’t dare to protest what his mother said and kept drinking - Now, I'm not going to warn you again. Is that clear?

\- Very well.

Haelga raised - Maven Black-Briar immediately took her seat at the side of her son - and went with a very controlled pace to the closest exit. She passed by me and Svana, and gave me a look of despise.

\- You looking for something or what? You can’t sleep at Haelga’s Bunkhouse. That heap of matchsticks is for the working man, not some sort of a luxury inn for tourists – Well… She really wasn’t a pleasant person – Svana, come, you have cores to do. Though you would be more help if you kept your head out of the clouds…

The niece took her time before departing, testing Haelga’s patience. Before leaving, she whispered in my ear: “She’s just treating you like this because she fears to lose the men for your beauty”. I contained the urge to laugh. By the look Svana gave me, it wasn’t just the men that would wish me. 

While I ate a bowl of hot soup and a slice of pie, I started observing the influent mother and son. Some conversations in particular confirmed what Maul told me:

\- Hemming, I need you to bring a note to Sibbi - Was saying Maven - I need him to do something for me.

\- Sibbi? – Hemming looked confused - He's in prison... you put him there.

\- I know that! – The woman’s face was distorted with frustration for a second, but she quickly composed herself - I can promise you, when he's ready, he'll find the cell door unlocked.

\- Why do you tolerate him, mother? All he contributes to this family is embarrassment and disgrace.

\- I tolerate your son because he'll do anything I ask, without question. I'd expect the same from my own son.

\- I understand, mother. Forgive me.

Wait… According to Maul, Sibbi was a son of Maven - like Hemming, as he confirmed by calling her “mother”. Yet they just said Sibbi was also Hemming’s son. Well, that would explain why Maven didn’t want Haelga sleeping with Hemming. 

What would she do if…

I went to speak with her. 

She didn’t even look at me.

\- Your name carries weight in Riften – I stated.

\- Of course. Nothing gets done without my approval in this city. I have the Jarl's ear, and the guards in my pocket. Anyone makes trouble for me and I pay a visit to the Thieves Guild. Make me angry and I contact the Dark Brotherhood – By now, she met my gaze - You'd do well to remember that next time you make such a stupid observation.

\- How did you become allied with the Thieves Guild? – I wondered, pretending to not worry.

\- The Black-Briar family has always been allied with the Guild. Our connections with the Empire and within Skyrim make for a perfect fit. I dare say the Guild owes its survival as much to my family as it does to its own people.

After being sent away, I rented a room in the Inn to spend the night, and if I was honest, I had seen cleaner rooms before. But compared to the road, it was still an improvement. 

It was just 4 AM when I went looking for Mjoll. My recently acquired agility allowed me to peek in the windows of the higher levels of the houses, where most bedrooms were located, and when I found her in a house close to the main gate, I slipped inside by lockpicking the window. Her warrior instincts noticed me immediately, and she grabbed her dagger before I could even say a word. She was pointing it against my throat in seconds. 

\- Now you’re robbing me? – She snarled – You’re easy to influence, are you not?

\- Quite the other way around – I retorted, mad for her judgment – You were the one who told me to be careful in this city. That’s what I’m doing. I’m gaining the trust of the influent people so that I can use the information shared against them. – She didn’t seem convinced – Come on, Mjoll. I didn’t even tell Maul I was the Dragonborn, just Thane, and confirmed that dragons have returned. And now I came to tell you about what the Thieves Guild intends to do to Brand-Shei.

\- Why not during daytime?

\- During daytime – I started, exasperated – the plan will be executed. And during daytime, it would look suspect if I, the person recruited to carry out the plan, came to talk to you before you realized the scheme. 

She finally sheathed her dagger. I took a deep breath.

\- Alright. I will believe this once. But if it’s a lie, don’t expect me to go easy on you, Dragonborn – She helped me get up with a single hand, in a show of how much stronger than me she was despite my role – Now. What’s the plan?

I told her.

At 9 AM, after my meditation and when the market was bustling with activity, I found Brynjolf there. I was dressed with my leggings and a simple shirt I borrowed, with no patterns or embroideries, soft shoes, no helmet but a hat to prevent my ears and shaved head from standing out, and only possessed a dagger and lockpicks with me. No words from my part were required. He smirked.

\- Glad to see you finally came to your senses. Ready to make some coin?


	9. Welcome to the Thieves Guild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the previous chapter was about Riften, this one focuses almost entirely around the Thieves Guild.
> 
> I should say I like how, despite trying to include the original game dialogue as unchanged as possible, I incorporate different parts of the lore or mix canon dialogue to give them more depth. I hope you like the results too :)

Having agreed with the Thieve’s Guild plan, I was still figuring out how to pick Madesi’s ring and plant it in Brand-Shei pocket. Brynjolf, on the other hand, looked positive in what he had to do. He approached a market stand full of huge red flasks and grabbed one, exhibiting it in the air as he bragged from the depth of his lungs:

\- Everyone! Everyone! Gather 'round! I have something amazing to show you that demands your attention! – People really were looking at him and a crowd was forming, with even the market vendors about to leave their stalls - Gather 'round all! No pushing, no shoving. Plenty of room!

\- Come on, Brynjolf... what is it this time? – The dunmer rolled his eyes, but still ended up joining the others around the thief.

\- Patience, Brand-Shei. This is a rare opportunity, and I wouldn't want you to get left out.

\- That's what you said about the Wisp Essence and it turned out to be crushed nirnroot mixed with water! – exclaimed Madesi.

Now was a good time for me to get started.

I kept getting behind the crowd, until I was at arms-reach from Madesi’s stall. I looked around. The only guard present was among Brynjolf’s audience, and no one was looking in my direction, so I thanked my recently-acquired agility and crouched quickly between the stall – in one of the extremities of the market – and the low wall behind. Well, at least I was shadowed. I paid half a mind to the things the thief was saying while I worked on lockpicking Madesi’s strongbox, and the conversation was hilarious – I would more easily be detected by laughing than by being seen. 

\- That was a simple misunderstanding, but this item is the real thing – Excused Brynjolf - Lads and lasses, I give you… Falmerblood Elixir!

\- Oh come on, are you talking about the Snow Elves? – Brand-Shei was still skeptical. 

\- The one and only. Mystical beings who live in legends and were masters of great magic. Imagine the power that coursed through their veins!

\- How did you get that, then? No one's seen them in years! – Was Madesi’s turn.

\- My sources must remain a secret for their own protection, but I can promise that the contents are genuine. One sip of the elixir – Brynjolf made a dramatic pause, and I finally got the box open after destroying 3 lockpicks. Now to find the ring… - and your wishes will be granted. Great wealth, everlasting life or perhaps limitless power could be yours!

\- How much does it cost? – Brand-Shei sat on the crates beside his own stall, pondering. That was a great opportunity. With the ring on my hand, I moved from stall to stall, always behind, always crouched, always in the shadows. The interest of the audience was reaching its peak and as soon as it was over, I wouldn’t get another chance.

\- Only twenty gold septims! Hurry before my supply is gone – Some people actually started buying,

\- Don't listen to him, he's making this up – Was Madesi saying to Brand-Shei.

\- That Wisp Essence didn't help, but maybe this will – Answered Brand-Shei, still considering.

\- Please hurry, I have only a few bottles left!

“Stop insisting, Brynjolf!”. I wanted to place the ring in Brand-Shei from behind the crates, through a space between the boxes in the perfect spot to reach the dunmer’s pocket. If he decided to buy now and got up… I would not do it on time. Or worse, he would catch me.

I stretched my upper body above the crates, trying to get a good angle for placing the ring discreetly in his pocket without putting my arm in Madesi’s line of sight. 

Done. 

I noticed I had been retaining my breath. Laughing silently as I made my way back to the crowd, I felt a rush of adrenaline different from what I usually feel in battle. The conscience of how wrong what I did was, the fear of being caught, and a kind of fun similar to when we prank people… I could just hope the sensation was not addictive. “And thank Mjoll for undoing my wrongs, if she can”.

After a while, everyone had made up their minds and either bought the fake elixir or returned to their routine, even Brand-Shei and Madesi, unaware of what happened. I was the last to depart, not wanting to be seen in the place of the crime with the thief. I made sure Brynjolf knew I was going to the inn, and he met me in my room later. I was still wearing my simple clothes, except for the hat. 

\- Looks like I chose the right person for the job – He remarked, sitting on a chest as he tossed a purse in the air - And here you go... your payment, just as I promised. The way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch.

I furrowed. 

\- What's been going on? 

\- Bah. My organization's been having a run of bad luck, but I suppose that's just how it goes. But never mind that, you did the job and you did it well. – He hesitated for a second, but opted to continue, looking me in the eyes - Best of all, there's more where that came from... if you think you can handle it.

\- The money's nice – I said honestly, and that wasn’t the only nice thing - but I don't know...

Actually, I did. I knew I would join the Thieves Guild, just as I told Mjoll, and betray its plans to her. I was still unsure what I would have to do to be trusted by the guild, and I would have to choose carefully what plans I would betray, otherwise the sequence of ruined operations after my joining would look suspect. And I already decided what role to play: The role of someone worried with morals and therefore hesitant to break the law, that would slowly get more confident as a thief. 

And Brynjolf was buying it.

\- Look, I'll make this simple for you – He said, bored - The group I represent has its home in the Ratway beneath Riften... a tavern called the Ragged Flagon. When you make up your mind, come find me there and we'll talk about your future.

\- Maybe. How do I find the Ratway?

\- If I have to hold your hand through everything, maybe you aren't cut out for this kind of work – He argued, suddenly all arrogant - It's under your feet, lad. Just follow the smell.

“Lad” was just the perfect gender-neutral title. 

After some grilled leeks and a roasted goat leg, I put on my travel gear and went to the lower level. Besides the few houses and stores I already visited, a tunnel led to where the beggars slept, and they pointed, bothered, that the duct to the Ratway was precisely in the other extremity of the level. Through another duct, I found bandits and thugs in the labyrinth, not very proficient, that met their destiny in the tip of my sword, and the ecosystem of the tunnels was even more unpleasant than that of the Nordic tombs. The smells were similar to the outside, but stronger, since the sun couldn’t reach here and all surfaces were covered in moisture and dirt. But I finally found a door that got me in a circular chamber, badly lit but still better than the tunnels, and I could see a platform and a wood bridge connected to an area in the farthest reaches in front of me, with a simple bar and tables. I also saw around six people there.

When I was closer to them, I recognized Brynjolf voice, and someone answered:

\- Give it up, Brynjolf... those days are over.

\- I'm telling you, this one is different...

\- We've all heard that one before, Bryn! – Said a third man - Quit kidding yourself.

\- It's time to face the truth, old friend - Echoed the first - You, Vex, Mercer... you're all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!

The escalation of my reputation made me learn how to use drama to feed people’s image of me. I knew when to make my entrance. 

The trio looked at me, and some of the people at the tables also spared a curious glance. “Bryn” tossed his head back and laughed.

\- Dying breed, eh? Well, what do you call that then!

To call “dying breed” to a Halfling between Nord and Altmer wasn’t the most appropriate term, and a part of me got stuck on the irony. But, mostly, the anger was muted and I was satisfied with the looks of surprise and incredulity. 

Brynjolf turned to me:

\- Well, well... color me impressed, lad. I wasn't certain I'd ever see you again!

\- Getting here was easy, actually – I answered honestly. Not pleasing, and I could go without bandits in my life, but not a problem in the slightest.

\- Reliable and headstrong? You're turning out to be quite the prize! – He rubbed his hands with enthusiasm - So... now that I've whetted your appetite with our little scheme at the market, how about I introduce you to the place? Our leader has another test for you…

\- A risky one?

\- No risk, no reward. That's the way it goes, so you better get used to it. Now... if you're done bellyaching like a child, how about following me and I'll show you what we're all about?

Turns out they had a secret passage to another chamber behind a closet. That second chamber was equally circular, but here the water divided the outer platform from the inner platform, both circular and connected by bridges. In the outer ring, there were placed several beds with chests at their feet, along with doors to other rooms and shelves. There were more people there, with the Guild turning out to be something bigger than I expected, even if poor, and all members looked me at least once, some sizing me with an intimidating stance. When I had spoken with Mjoll, I had in mind fewer people to cross…

Bynjolf took me directly to the center of the chamber, where a not-young-looking man stood beating his feet on the floor, arms crossed. 

\- Mercer? – Brynjolf called - This is the one I was talking about... our new recruit.

\- This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf – He was saying before even turning to look at me. When he did, he didn’t show any emotion on his face: no curiosity, no satisfaction, no displeasure… just impatience - Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear: If you play by the rules, you walk away rich; You break the rules, and you lose your share. No debates, no discussion... you do what we say, when we say.

I nodded, resisting the urge to look to the floor.

\- Mercer, aren't you forgetting something? – Pressed Bryn.

\- Hmm? Oh, yes – Turning to me again, this time with a kinder voice tone, he gestured including the entire chamber - Since Brynjolf assures me you'll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild. Since you want to join, Brynjolf will fill you with the details of your test. 

Then he just walked to a desk where he sat writing. 

\- Don't know why I bothered – I confessed to Brynjolf - This place is a mess. You promise me riches at the cost of me breaking the law, and yet I’m starting to feel I could get richer by robbing tombs.

\- If you were expecting a palace, then maybe that’s another sign you're not cut out for this kind of work – He said, short and to the point – Keep robbing tombs if you want to lash out on the undead and kill what is not alive, and instead of breaking the law, you’re breaking tradition and disrupting our ancestors. If you’re even a Nord… - He whispered under his breath - Our methods involve secrecy and discretion. For the test, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?

\- Deadbeats? – I didn’t really care, but pretended to be interested - What'd they do? 

\- They owe our organization some serious coin and they've decided not to pay. I want you to explain to them the error of their ways. They are Keerava, Bersi Honey-Hand and Haelga. Do this right, and I can promise you a permanent place in our organization.

\- How do you want me to handle it? 

\- Honestly, the debt is secondary here. What's more important is that you get the message across that we aren't to be ignored. A word of warning though... I don't want any of them killed. Bad for business.

\- Consider it done – I said, and honestly, collecting debts shouldn’t be too hard, nor harm anyone. It would be harder to play the bad-guy with Mjoll suspecting me… Then, I remembered - Will I get a cut? 

\- Of course you'll get a cut - He said as if it was obvious - We take care of our own. Now, do you need any details on your marks?

\- Well, I guess. Since I’m an outsider, what can you tell me about them? We’ve only met… 

\- Bersi is as pig-headed a man as you'll ever find. The key is that ugly dwarven urn in his shop: smash that thing to bits and he'll change his attitude. Haelga, as you probably know by now, is a devout follower of the Dibella and dotes over the statue of the Divine that she keeps at the Bunkhouse. Use it as leverage and she'll cave.

\- Alright. Any tips about Keerava? 

\- I don’t know if you’ll find this useful being so soft yourself. Keerava's stubborn, but she's got a soft spot for family. Talk to Talen-Jei at the Bee and Barb and see if you can get something out of him. They're... well acquainted, if you catch my meaning.

On my way out, I tried to talk to the other members, but they didn’t seem to consider me a part of the guild yet. Not even the bartender, Vekel “The Man”, who I asked if he could tell me more about the Thieves Guild to sate my curiosity and make conversation. 

\- Sure. How about you mind your own business about it, and I won't have to get Dirge to toss you into the cistern? – He spat, humiliating me in front of the others - I don't know you, so we've got nothing to talk about. How about you finish the job Brynjolf gave you? Then we can talk.

By then, I wasn’t sure I would want to. But I decided to follow the plan. 

Being dressed in armor seemed appropriate to intimidate people. I would try to persuade Keerava and Haelga during the day, while the Inn and Bunkhouse had fewer customers, and at night I would go to Bersi. 

I started with Haelga. I may not have agreed with slut-shaming her, but she was certainly a horrible woman and I partnered with Svana, who was taking care of the bunkhouse, to help her get her vengeance. That promise, and me hinting at some interest in her, was enough to convince the girl to show me where the Dibella statue was. I got my hands on it just in time to see Haelga enter, and shoved Svana to the other room, to avoid compromising her. 

\- I came to collect your debt for the Thieves Guild – I announced, keeping the statue behind my back.

She sighed, again showing a great ability to keep composed, and turned to Svana.

\- Has that Skooma-riddled addict paid her rent yet? Or does she have more excuses?

\- She said she’ll have it soon – Protested the girl – She still had her job at the Meadery for now, so she’ll be able to pay us.

\- That doesn’t help now, does it? Why do you insist on defending that woman? All she does with her money is spend it on that Dark Elf garbage.

\- Just be patient, aunt. She’ll have it, I promise.

But Haelga was having none of it, and decided to blame her clients as an excuse.

\- As you see, I have my own debts to collect. The Guild can have its money back when I have mine – She said simply, and was starting to go to her room when I grabbed her arm.

\- Oh, you don’t have to pay with money. I think this will suffice – I dangled the golden statue in front of her, and this time, her shock was priceless.

\- What are you doing with my statue? That’s a unique edition of the Statue of Dibella!

\- Good, it means it’s worth more – I purred - But it’s our statue now. And if you don’t pay, it will soon be traded for coin – I headed to the exit.

\- Alright, alright! – She stopped me, and I waited. After a second of indecision, she got behind her counter and returned with a purse – I was saving this to buy… a religious thing. Take it, but please leave my statue! – I could see Svanja covering her mouth to contain the sounds, folded with laugh. I winked at her, accepted the trade and left.

Keerava was more difficult. She wasn’t willing to pay “that buffon” (Brynjolf?) a single coin, and when I tried to be friendly with her, she tried to make me pity her by telling how the war barely allows her to keep the place together. I ended up having to comment I would pay a visit to her family in Morrowind – information I got from Talen-Jei, who never suspected why I was asking personal questions – to make her fear for her family and pay me. I tried to promise I would be a regular client, but instead of soothing her, she told me to get my things out of her Inn or she would call the guards. That’s how I ended burdened with my things for the rest of the afternoon, and I thanked the hour and the location for not being too hot in the market where I spent most of the time, with the exception of a short visit to the Orphanage. I verified that “Grelod the Kind” was a horrendous old woman who mistreated the children and forbid them of being adopted, just like the rumors said.

At night, I paid a visit to The Pawned Prawn. Waiting was even a better decision than I thought, because the rumors of the Guild coming to collect its debts have already reached Bersi and, well, he handed me the money without me having to do anything. Good. I didn’t like to threaten people, anyway.

I returned to the Guild with both bags and purses full. Brynjolf assented. 

\- So, job's done and you even brought the gold. Best of all you did it clean. I like that. Dumping bodies and keeping the guards quiet can be… expensive.

\- There are bigger problems in killing people, I think. Here's what they owed us - I showed the purses to him.

\- Well done. And it would seem I owe you something in return. Here you go, your share – Second payment of the day, tossed as I expected, and I tossed the debts I collected at the same time, so it looked like we were juggling. I laughed, and while he just rolled his eyes and made a sound that sounded like “huff”, I could see the tip of a smirk on his face. 

\- What's next, then? 

\- Judging from how well you handled those shopkeepers, I'd say you've done more than simply prove yourself. We need people like you in our outfit.

\- If there's more gold where that came from, I'm in – I played my part. And this kind of jobs weren’t really that harmful…

\- That's the spirit! Larceny's in your blood... the telltale sign of a practiced thief. I think you'll do more than just fit in around here – Good. That’s what I needed him to think. And maybe now I could start learning about the Thieves Guild - Now, judging from your face, you must have questions. What's on your mind?

\- Word is your outfit isn't doing well, and you’ve confirmed that much yourself. Should I worry?

\- We've run into a rough patch lately, but it's nothing to be concerned about. Tell you what. You keep making us coin and I'll worry about everything else. Fair enough? – I nodded.

\- So how do I get my cut of the spoils? 

\- Simple. Do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We can't turn a profit by killing. You should talk with Delvin Mallory and Vex, they know their way around this place and they'll be able to kick some extra jobs your way. Oh, and talk to Tonilia in the Flagon... she'll set you up with your new armor – I nodded again, wondering who those thieves were, and Brynjolf made sure I was satisfied with the information - Now, if there are no more questions… Welcome to the family, lad. I'm expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don't disappoint me.

He patted my shoulder and sent me on my way. 

Good thing there were spare beds here, since I had been expelled from the Bee and Barb Inn. There was also a training deck with targets and locks to practice lockpicking skills and well, the bar. As I explored, I talked with practically everyone I saw, starting by Tonilia as Bryn directed me, since I was eager to try the outfit – after all, it was light armor, so it offered both protection and freedom of movement, was easy to blend in with both casual and protective gear, full of pockets, and stylish. Definitely a pro. 

Tonilia was a redguard woman with her dark hair, almost the same shade of the skin, bound in the base of the neck, and a sleeveless grey version of the guild outfit.

\- Brynjolf sent me – I told her, when I was pointed to her by the barkeeper.

\- So you're the new recruit, eh? Well, looks like you and I are going to have to get very well acquainted… - She purred, mysteriously.

\- Why is that? 

\- I'm the fence down here – She explained - You come by anything you don't exactly own and I'll pay you some coin for it. Minus a little slice for the Guild, of course. I can also provide a few supplies useful to our trade now and again, for a small fee.

\- Is there anything you don't charge for? 

\- Sure, how about I get Dirge to knock you over your head and dump you into the cistern? – Wow, the people here were really sweet, and subtle… - Look, I've been in this business for a long time and I've seen all types. You can play it tough, you can play it smart... whatever. At the end of the day, you'll find all we care about down here is how much gold you can make us.

\- Understood. Bryn called this a family, but it looks like someone is only part of the family if they contribute.

\- Good, you realized it’s like with any other family – She didn’t give me time to ponder her words, but the impact of the truth still felt like a cold bath - Then there isn't much more to say. Here's your armor, just make sure you put it to good use.

\- Does the Guild provide other services? – I asked as I secured the garbs against my chest.

\- Well, you could always speak to Delvin or Vex if you're looking for extra work. Or if you're looking for training, we've got plenty of it down here. Delvin, Vex, Niruin and Vipir can give you a leg on that.

Vex was the next person I met, who apparently shared the small bedroom behind the bar along with the other women of the guild. She was a slim blonde Imperial as harsh as any other member:

\- Before we begin, I want to make two things perfectly clear. One, I'm the best infiltrator this rathole of a Guild's got, so if you think you're here to replace me, you're dead wrong – I didn’t know why I would think that - And two, you follow my lead and do exactly as I say... no questions, no excuses. Then we understand each other. – Bah, everyone here wanted me to be obedient… It wouldn’t be easy to sabotage their plans - Now, it's time to get your feet wet and I don't want to waste a lot of time talking about anything but business.

\- What sort of business? 

\- I'm not going to sugar-coat it for you. We're in a bad way down here.

\- I noticed – Would she tell me more than Bryjolf? - Any idea why? 

\- Who knows. Old Delvin thinks it's some kind of curse. I think he's crazy. If you want my opinion, I say it's just plain old bad luck.

\- So, what can we do? 

\- You can get out there and start making a name for us again... make them start fearing us like they did long ago. And, while you're at it, make a little bit of coin on the side. Not a bad deal, eh?

Next, I found Sapphire, the short-haired woman I confronted on the Inn, discussing with a Nordic man. More exactly, he was bothering her.

\- So, Sapphire – He started - Can I do anything for you, or more to the point... to you?

\- Vipir "the Fleet.” – So much venom on her voice, and I couldn’t say I disapproved - The only man who's foolish enough to name himself after his bedroom prowess.

\- You stupid cow. You don't know what you're missing.

\- No, but I know that you're going to turn up missing if you keep up this kind of talk. The same “valuable asset” Dirge will lose if he continues to spy Vex in the bath, as I’m sure you read in her letter to him. 

As he grumbled and cursed, she noticed me and recognized my appearance. I approached the pair.

\- Look – She offered - if I was a little harsh before, I just wanted you to know it's because I didn’t know you. Know what I mean? 

\- Of course, it’s fine - I smiled and waved, it was nothing to worry about, and I was actually happy that the first person of the guild that I confronted was the first to be nice to me - Sapphire, right? 

\- They call me Sapphire because I love to steal them. Don't get me wrong, I'll steal any gem that isn't nailed down. But there's something about those blue stones that gets my blood boiling.

\- So “Sapphire” isn’t your real name?

\- Most of us here don’t use our real name. Speaking of, how should we call you? Or do you prefer to wait until you gain one?

\- Talos is the name I use everywhere, but I don’t know if it’s my real name. Guess I can keep using it here.

\- Good to piss off some Imperials, so I like it. See, you even have some thief habits – She smiled in return - Hey, when you get bored of this place, come to me. I’ll show you a secret exit. 

I looked at the man and didn’t pretend I didn’t overhear the conversation.

\- So, you really earned your name by your bedroom stories? – I joked.

\- Haha, how funny. No. It was on a job a few years back... – He waited to gain my attention - It was supposed to be a simple burglary on a house in Windhelm. I was working with Vex and we got inside with no trouble. We found the loot, and made our way out.

\- Sounds normal to me. 

\- Well it was, up until the point where we set foot outside. The house was surrounded by town guards... the client had ratted us out. Vex just tells me to run for it, so I did. Half of them went after me, the other half went after her.

\- Oh. Did either of you get caught? – It definitely wasn’t something I would like to experience. I preferred to be in the good side of the guards… which would probably be harder from now on. I certainly couldn’t tell them I was just pretending to be a thief.

\- Are you kidding me? Vex lost them in seconds... once she steps into the shadows, she vanishes. Me? I ran... and I ran... straight through the gates of Windhelm and all the way back to Riften.

\- That's an incredible distance to run – Even being the closest city…

\- Vex was waiting for me at the Ragged Flagon when I came in, drenched in sweat. Everyone just took a look at me and laughed. – Sapphire echoed what he said and crackled, probably remembering what happened.

\- Why were they laughing? – I asked both, lost.

\- Well, I had forgotten we had our horses tied up just outside of Windhelm... Vex rode hers back and arrived hours before I did – Oooh, I got it now. Pfft - So, that's how I earned the name. Now keep it to yourself. If you doubt the name, watch me outrun the town guard sometime. And I might not be as big as some of my fellow Nords, but in a fight they can barely lay a hand on me. 

\- Looks like running is your specialty, then.

\- Actually, not the only one. If you need pickpocket training, just let me know. I already have quite some practice. I've been a part of this Guild for as long as Mercer has been Guild Master.

Then I met Dirge, the muscular brother of Maul who remained in the Guild while he became Black-Briar bodyguard. And my curiosity about the names could not be sated.

\- Why do they call you Dirge? 

\- They call me Dirge, 'cause I'm the last thing you hear before they put you in the ground. Why? You think it's funny or something?

I assured him that wasn’t the case. I learned that Dirge worked as a bouncer for the Ragged Flagon and he never slept, besides warning me over and over that "Even if you're one of us, you better not cause trouble." Especially to Vekel, apparently.

Vekel himself was much more welcoming now that I was officially a member, and even told me a bit about why he believed the guild was cursed, but wasn’t exactly convincing. With what he said, it was almost impossible to resent him for being so rude earlier:

\- I don't know about the others, but I sure am glad to see a fresh face down here. The Flagon used to be packed every night with the boys from the Guild, but now look at it. Last few years have been pretty bad. I've almost closed this place up.

It looked like everyone had a story: 

Rune was found by a fisherman as a child, victim of a shipwreck and with no memories, so the fisherman raised him and named him after a rock with a strange writing that the child was holding. He apparently spent most of the coin he earned here in trying to learn about his past, something I could understand. 

Thrynn deserted a bandit clan after being ordered to kill innocent women and children and was supported by some of the other members to kill their leader, and those who survived went their separate ways.   
Niruin was a Bosmer from Valenwood who worked at his father’s finery, who had everything he could wish for, except excitement. He fell in with a gang called the Silver Crescents until his father found out and gave him an ultimatum: leave Valenwood or go to jail. Niruin, who knew Delvin, decided to move to Skyrim and join this guild. 

Ravyn was from Morag Tong, an assassins’ guild from Morrowind rival of the Dark Brotherhood. For that reason, after the eruption of the Red Mountain that forced the guild to disband, he couldn’t go to the Brotherhood, so the Thieves Guild was his best option. 

Garthar, after helping Vex once surviving a pack of wolves, was robbed by her, they fought, and none could best the other. Impressed, Vex invited him to join. The way he dispersed made it seem like he was also, err, impressed with her. 

Cynric was a Bosmer jailbreaker. In other words, he would be hired by a client to get arrested, and would either break the target prisoner out of jail or kill them. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned one time in High Rock and he spent three years there before he was released, so he decided to join the Guild and never do that kind of job again.

Delvin was another Bosmer who once committed murder by accident in a robbery attempt and was sheltered by the Dark Brotherhood until the heat died, even entering a relationship with their leader, Astrid. Complications made him leave. He also wanted to restore the Thieves Guild to its former glory, and gave me a list of simple jobs I could take. I chose the less harmful ones, that basically consisted of changing the logbook of some stores. 

Finally, Galathil was more of a refugee in the guild than a member, and despite her ragged appearance, she claimed to come from an academic background. She studied with the Faculty of Chirurgeons in Cloudrest, walked with the hollow-faced men of Nohotogrha for three years and, after mastering her craft of flesh sculpture, practiced it in salons all over Tamriel. I wondered if she was the reason why everyone here, in the "backwaters of the world” as she called it, was simultaneously so beautiful and scary-looking. 

Most of those things I learned during the meals I spent here, and night talk. I put on my new armor to fit in better, and slept with the guys in the circular chamber. The next morning, Sapphire showed me some stairs that led to a lever that opened and closed an exit under the small chapel in the cemetery. What an odd choice…


	10. The Haven of Prejudice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For visualization purposes, the way I imagine Windhelm and the Palace of Kings is inspired by these mods: https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/70706   
> https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/98377

Money comes, and money goes. Thanks to the Thieves Guild, my purse weighed even more than when I entered the city, and yet, when a mage who apparently heard about me offered himself for hiring, I decided after a demonstration of his abilities that his protection was worth 500 gold. I mean, I wasn’t a huge fan of magic, but his shock spells could roast any foe before it could even get close, and that value wasn’t that unreasonable considering I requested to be accompanied until Whiterun. The mage presented himself as Marcurio, and was wearing Adept golden robes. “With a master of magic at your side, you’ll have nothing to fear”, he promised, completely unaware that I wasn’t a simple traveler. 

When we were exiting Riften, Shadr called to me from the stables.

\- I wanted to thank you for what you did – He started – I don’t think anyone in Riften even cared about what happened to me. Look, I was saving this, but I wanted you to have it. 

He gave me a flask with a yellow liquid. I read the label.

\- A potion of invisibility? – I said surprised. I didn’t even know those things were possible.

\- I thought I might need it if Sapphire came for me – He shrugged, and Marcurio snorted – but I don’t need it anymore. And another thing – He approached a grey mare and a golden stallion – I wasn’t expecting you to have a companion, but I guess that can be fixed. If you wish, and promise to return the horses unharmed, you can borrow them this once. I’m sure it will save you time. 

\- Oh, wow, Shadr. Thank you, really, there was no need!... – How would the boy react if he knew I was now with the Thieves Guild? – But it will be really useful. Can we take them now? – I stroke the stallion muzzle, who happily responded to me - What a good boy, aren’t you?

\- Haha, he is. Not the fastest horse, but sturdy and well trained, and the same for the mare. Just let me ready them. 

When he was sealing the horses, Marcurio elbowed me and said, with all his sass:

\- Now that with the horses our trip together will be so short, I bet you regret only hiring me to Whiterun. I may take pity and stay with you for longer… for a price – He joked.

\- How do you know the trip will be short? – I retorted, amused – I never said I would go directly to Whiterun. I could have decided to explore the entire continent before going there, and you have already   
agreed to do it only for 500 gold – His expression was hilarious.

\- Oh, you…! Very well, but don’t abuse your luck.

\- Haha, I won’t, don’t worry. I was just tasting my revenge.

To that, he joined his own laugh and gave me a little push.

\- We both know that if you tried to abuse your luck I would make your travels insufferable. – He joked – You would be forced to make me leave your service or pay more. That said, I’m the perfect guide to take you around the world: Dwemmer ruins, ancient tombs, and my home country Cyrodill, of course. I’m an expert in the history of all those. And in disarming traps - Somehow, I believed him. He actually looked professional, and his confidence justified. What an interesting companion I just got...

I and Marcurio departed in full gallop, towards Windhelm. I had decided it was time to finally see the seat of Ulfric and the Stormcloaks, eventually join the rebellion. I had put off the war for too long, and the city was so close, that I had to take advantage of the fact I had a bodyguard and horses to get there faster. 

Between the cities, we found a camp of bandits who delayed us, and yet I never had so much fun while fighting. 

Marcurio detected them first, and readied a spell on his hand. “Bandits are desperate men. They have nothing to lose, and they fight like it”, he whispered, making a sign for me to stand back. I chose my one-handed simple sword, easier to control mounted on a horse. The bandits hadn’t even noticed us when Marcurio electrocuted one, and the others were set on a frenzy. He then started to pursue them on the saddle, an attack on one hand and a ward on the other, and he laughed every time he fooled another bandit. Well, I couldn’t allow myself to stay behind. He had trouble when the bandits got closer to his horse and I had to interfere several times, and I was better at dealing with the attacks when they were within my reach. We quickly entered in a sort of competition to see who could slay more bandits, and while he liked to provoke me by killing my own targets when I was finally close enough to them – it was so frustrating! – he couldn’t refuse my help sometimes. But the best part was when we were side by side, and the last 3 bandits were right in front of me. I couldn’t resist the temptation of shouting.

\- Fus… Ro!

The three were sent flying, and only one survived the fall. 

\- Marcurio? Your turn! 

\- Wha…? Oh right, right! – He recovered and impaled one of the men in an ice spike before he could even get up. He turned to me, eyebrow raised – Was that magic? I’ve never seen anything like that.

\- Hum, no… That was Shouting.

\- Shouting?! Like what Tiber Septim did? – His eyes darted in different directions, processing the information – Don’t, ooh no, don’t tell me you’re… the Dragonborn!

\- Would that be a problem? – I recoiled.

\- A problem?! No, that’s incredible! If you know more of those things, it will really spice up the travels. I knew you weren't like other travelers.

\- Haha, I’m happy you liked it. I don’t know many yet, but… wait, let me dismount – In the ground, I concentrated on the sensation of being carried ahead and invoked Whirlwind Sprint. I was on the other side of the camp in a few seconds, basking on the enthusiasm of the sorcerer – Hey, see if you can find anything useful on that side of the camp! 

We found more supplies, and clothes more protective and appropriate for the cold than the robes Marcurio was wearing, since we were going North and this area was already full of icy blasts. I didn’t have any more space in my satchels, so I told him to carry those things, offending him: “I’m a wizard, not a pack mule!” But the sulking didn’t last. When we got to Shor’s Stone, a small village where the roofs were made of straw and few points of interest, I was persuaded to get rid (as in, kill) of the spiders that flooded the mine. Giant spiders, to be more precise. The whole situation made Marcurio clearly uncomfortable, not because of the spiders, but because of the closed space. Was he claustrophobic? Because he started complaining as soon as we entered, complaining about the lack of fresh air, stating that he wouldn’t work on a mine even for all the gold in Skyrim, and listing all kinds of perturbing facts like how sometimes miners died from poisonous gases trapped beneath the ground. 

After killing the third spider, I was already fed up with his complaints:

\- Let’s try to not make too much noise. I’ve heard cave-ins can start that way. Don’t even think about Shouting here. 

\- Guaaargh! – I groaned, and he hurried to “shush” me – No, I won’t shut up. Go back to the surface, I can deal with these spiders by myself. 

But he was too proud to do that. 

The blacksmith rewarded me in coin, and even let me refine my blades there for free. Since it’s was already late, we decided to spend the night at the inn, and I took some extra time to meditate. Since Marcurio already knew I was the Dragonborn, I could be honest about the reason I wanted to do that, which made me feel a little less awkward and not so bad for boring him to death. But at least here he was pretty content for having “a tavern to explore”, as he put it. 

We sighted Windhelm, the oldest city of man, right before lunch on the second day of travel. Convenient. The city was built on top of a natural formation surrounded by glacier water and then snow, and the walls were made of stone, an extension of the bridge connecting to the stables where we left the horses. Outside of the walls, to the right, there were the docks, where I saw mostly Argonians at work and huge ships, one ready to sail. When we entered the gates, it stroke me that almost all buildings were also made of stone. Right in front of us, a few meters away, there was an inn at the center of this long quarter, almost a corridor that led to the castle towering over us. There were braziers here and there, and from that central area, one could go left and right, and I could see that the area at the right had a dissonant appearance from the rest of the city. Also had more Dark Elves concentrated than I’ve ever seen before. Speaking of, a Dunmer woman was involved in a discussion with two Nords, and one had just grabbed her wrist:

\- You come here where you’re not wanted – Was saying the man who grabbed her, but she was able to release herself without my interference - you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks!

\- We haven’t taken a side because it’s not our fight – Stated the woman bravely. 

\- Hey, maybe the reason this gray-skins don’t help in the war is because they’re Imperial spies! – Exclaimed the other.

\- Imperial spies? – She made a screechy sound - You can’t be serious!

But the first man had noticed me and Marcurio, and I made a point of tossing my cloak over the back, showing my weapons underneath. He exchanged some last words with the woman.

\- Maybe we’ll pay you a visit tonight, little spy. We got ways of finding out what you really are.

When they left, there was no point in hiding I oversaw the conversation. I approached the woman, who looked at me in a not-so-friendly way.

\- Do you hate the dark elves too? Are you here to bully us and tell us to leave? – She spat.

\- No, of course I don’t hate your people.

\- You’ve come to the wrong city, then. Windhelm’s a haven of prejudice and narrow thinking, unworthy of one such as you. I’m Suvaris Atheron, office manager of the clan Shatter-Shield by the dock.

\- I’m… Talos – Why would I be afraid of saying my name? If there was any place in all Tamriel where the name Talos was safe, it was here - Looked like those Nords were giving you trouble. Why would anyone think you’re a spy?

\- Nothing new there. Most of the Nords living in Windhelm don’t care much for us, but Rolff is the worst by far. He likes to get drunk and walk around the Gray Quarter yelling insults at us in the small hours of the morning. A real charmer, that one - She scoffed, a hand on her waist - Some of the Nords come up with any excuse to despise us. And it isn’t just the dark elves they hate: they make a target of the Argonians as well. In fact, everyone that isn’t a Nord is fair game for their bullying. Makes me wonder why would an Altmer with such… _strange_ name come here. 

\- For mead and warm food – Intervened loudly Marcurio, patting me in the shoulder – Do you have any recommendations? 

\- Ah – She actually smiled - in that case you will probably want the CandleHeart Inn. Or, if you really don’t mind the _stink_ of the Gray Quarter, you can come to the New Gnisis Cornerclub and help support the local business. 

As soon as she left, Marcurio turned to me.

\- Well, any piece of relevant information you would like to share with me? – When I was at a loss of words, he started the explanation by counting by the fingers – You’re the Dragonborn, one, and your name is Talos, two. Anything else?

\- Hum… I’m Thane of Whiterun?

\- Oh, for the Eight… Alriiight, I’ll believe it. Look, I’m not trying to extort confidential information or anything, just trying to decide if I should charge more to be worth the risk. Not that you seem to be dripping gold.

\- I’m not. And sorry, I should have explained those things. But please understand that it’s not always safe for me to share all this. And besides – I added - there’s another reason why I don’t use my name too much, not just because of safety and religious conflicts. I’m not sure if that’s my real name or just something I picked for myself because I don’t remember my past. The first memories I have are of Helgen. 

\- Whoa. So all your memories are very recent… - His eyes offered a mix of surprise and sympathy for a second, then he shrugged – Since your story was so moving, I’ll not hire more this time. Shall we go find something to eat, my sir, lady, shady? 

He extended one arm to me, and I laughed, both from the stupid mix of honorifics and because he didn’t straight out assume my gender.

\- Honestly, “shady” is the best option.

\- So “shady” you’ll be.

He didn’t seem concerned about my gender at all. What a relief. I accepted his arm and let him take me to the Candleheart Hall, the building that greeted the visitants, despite my heart wanting to support the Dunmer. 

The inn attributed its name to a candle, lit above the hearth by the son of its original owner, a great warrior named Vundheim who lived here, in his honor. Since that day, the candle has never gone out, or at least that was what the innkeeper Elda told us. We took our meal on the second floor, hearing the bard Luaffyn and the writer Adonato talking about their lives and goals, amongst other people who liked to spend time here to get updated on the rumors and feel a sense of warmth and security. I heard that Susanna the Wicked, who was previously a barmaid of the inn, had been murdered after leaving the work, and this was not the first episode of the sort – apparently, the Butcher only killed young women. As Brunwulf Free-Winter, who saw me sympathizing with the Dunmer before and was a supporter of the refugees, told me, the previous victim had been Tova Shatter-Shield, and her mother and twin sister were the most devastated. The guards were hiring anyone who could contribute to solving the case. Finally, I heard a Nord surrounded by books complaining about how he still had much to do before departing to the College of Winterhold, and about how his family disapproved of his decision. When everyone he was talking to sided with the family instead, he simply left. 

In the afternoon, we toured the city, mostly because I wanted to. On the left side, I found a market and blacksmith, the cemetery and Hall of the Dead, and an “avenue of valor”, Valunstrad, the oldest section of Windhelm where the largest buildings could be found, including – accessed through a small street – the Palace of Kings. On the right side of the city, the Gray Quarter buildings mixed as much stone as wood, probably to help the area grow in height to accommodate all elves, who seemed unhappy and frustrated. If they ever thought of working to the Nords after the eruption that destroyed their land, with the current level of discrimination, they completely refused to do it. And I agreed. It was unfair to ask them to bow their heads, dispose of their dignity and accept the jobs no one wanted to do so that they could live... However, there were colorful lanterns and flags hanging from the windows and between buildings, and that sign of the Dunmer culture strongly contrasted with their mood. 

Finally, I gathered the courage to enter the castle. 

When I was allowed inside, accompanied by the mage, the first thing I noticed was a standing bear at my side prepared to attack, and immediately took my hand to the pommel of the sword.

\- Wait, don’t unsheathe your weapons! – Interrupted a guard – That’s just a trophy. 

Who put a trophy of a standing bear at the side of each of the entrance doors?! Was that to impress or just scare the audience? Because it worked, by the gods!

The throne room was impressive.

Not so large as the one at Dragonreach, but the austerity of the stone combined with the richness gave it an appearance truly fit for a king. All around the room, hanging from the ceiling, there were blue draperies with the emblem of the Stormcloaks, except in the tiles above the arched doors, where long banners of the rebellion hanged instead. Torches were at the center of each walled arch on the laterals of the room, except when there were doors, and at the farthest wall, at each side of a massive stone throne, there were windows of stained glass instead of torches. In the center of the room, following its length, a long table full of meat and mead was set over the most luxurious table set I’ve ever seen, and the ceiling imperfectly mirrored the table by the chandeliers made of goat horns set there. A blue tapestry covering almost the entire floor lead to the throne, on top of a dais, with a brazier at each side and another blue drapery falling along the back of the throne, attached to the top by two majestic swords crossed under a round shield. And the throne was empty.

I noticed how a Stormcloak was looking attentively at me. He took his helmet off.

\- Ralof? – I recognized.

\- So it’s really you! – His mouth opened in a wide smile and he patted my back with the expected strength - Well met, friend! Come to join the rebellion?

\- I’m considering, yet, but possibly – I admitted - Mostly, I just wanted to see what your headquarters look like. And, if I’m allowed, I want to speak with Jarl Ulfric. Do you know where he is?

\- He’s in the War Room, as usual. Come, I’ll show you.

Before he opened the door, I could already hear people talking. An unfamiliar voice with a strong accent was discussing the plans:

\- Balgruuf won't give us a straight answer.

\- He's a true Nord – This voice, deep and patient, I recognized. Ulfric Stormcloak - He'll come around.

\- Don't be so sure of that. We've intercepted couriers from Solitude. The Empire's putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun.

Ralof knocked firmly and opened the door, without waiting for permission, showing me how much Ulfric trusted his “true sons and daughters” of Skyrim. Both men were leaning over the war table, Ulfric with his typical black and dark blue garb, and the other in a distinct armor with bear furs attached to the shoulders and the superior half of a bear head as a hat. The room was full of weapons, shields and helmets. 

Ulfric looked at his man. Neither spared us a look.

\- And what would you have me do?

\- If he's not with us, he's against us – Recited the advisor.

\- He knows that. They all know that...

\- How long are you going to wait? – The advisor sounded frustrated.

\- You think I need to send Balgruuf a stronger message – Ulfric concluded from his words.

\- If by message you mean shoving a sword through his gullet.

The leader pondered for a moment. Then, he moved a piece over the map.

\- Taking his city and leaving him in disgrace would make a more powerful statement, don't you think?

\- So we're ready to start this war in earnest, then?

\- Soon.

Ulfric finally paid attention to us, left the table and went for the main hall, simply expecting our group to open the way and follow him. And we did, even when he didn’t say a word, like the good dogs we were. He had that effect on people. His authority seemed fair, his regal presence deserved. 

\- I still say you should take them all out like you did Deadking Torygg – Insisted the advisor. 

\- Torygg was merely a message to the other Jarls. Whoever we replace them with will need the support of our armies.

\- We're ready when you are.

\- Things hinge on Whiterun. If we can take the city without bloodshed, all the better. But if not... – He was now climbing the stairs to the throne, slowly, reflecting.

\- The people are behind you – Was the supportive voice.

\- Many I fear still need convincing.

\- Then let them die with their false kings.

\- We've been soldiers a long time. We know the price of freedom – Ulfric shook his head, and turned, not facing us still but his man - The people are still weighing things in their hearts.

\- What's left of Skyrim to wager? - The other man was confused and impatient, not a drop of empathy in his expression for those who didn't support the rebellion immediately. 

\- They have families to think of.

\- How many of their sons and daughters follow your banner? – Kept insisting the other - We are their families!

That sentence, its power and undeniable truth, resonated with everyone who heard it. Including Ulfric.

\- Well put, friend. Tell me, Galmar, why do you fight for me?

\- I'd follow you into the depths of Oblivion, you know that – The advisor dismissed the question.

\- Yes, but why do you fight? If not for me, what then?

\- I'll die before elves dictate the fates of men – He stated, as if it were obvious, and the hatred with which he included all elves as his oppressors cut my feelings a little - Are we not one in this?

And at that question, the emotions Ulfric contained started pouring. Fury and sadness, strength and frustration, despair and determination, his voice convict and unwavering contrasting with his trembling closed fists from all the fire he nourished within, and I was swept with the intensity of his speech delivered to the entire Hall:

\- I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves! – He almost shouted, yet then the grief started overcoming the anger and his momentum died - I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. - He raised his chin. His blue eyes burned the way only ice could burn - I fight... because I must.

The Hall was immersed in silence for a while, all soldiers solemn, and Galmar bowed his head to the Jarl.

\- Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric. And that's why you will be High King – He uttered - But the day words are enough, will be the day when soldiers like us are no longer needed.

\- I would gladly retire from the world were such a day to dawn.

\- Aye. But in the meantime, we have a war to plan.

The advisor contented himself with a few more instructions and returned to the War Room, while Ulfric Stormcloak remained where he was, and sat on the throne, finally addressing us. I heard Marcurio shift behind me. I approached the Jarl, and judged better to bow.

I had his attention.

\- Only the foolish or the courageous approach a Jarl without summons... – Stated Ulfric, simultaneously curious and intimidating - Do I know you?

\- I believe we've already met – I answered mysteriously. I wanted to see if we would recognize me.

\- Is that so...? – He observed me more carefully, and I put the hood of the cloak down, showing my elf ears and the bare head - Ah yes, you were with us at Helgen. Destined for the chopping block if I'm not mistaken.

\- I helped Ralof escape. He said he'd vouch for me – I defended myself. 

\- And he did. But not by name. Not that a half-Altmer is easy to forget, unless I misinterpreted your race. What's your name, survivor?

To him, I wasn’t afraid of admitting my chosen name. And while most people would probably find my choice pretentious, I expected Ulfric to value my bravery in using it.

\- Talos, sir.

\- Aaah, Talos. A good name, indeed, if a bit ironic nowadays – He nodded, and changed to a slightly sideways position, resting the elbow on the arm of the throne and his head on top of the hand - I'm always looking for able fighters, and not everyone can say they made it out of Helgen. Seems we're all branded villains these days... So long as your criminal past stays in the past, and you fight for me with honor and integrity, we'll welcome you into our ranks. 

\- If you allow me, sir, I wouldn't worry about that. I have no memories to bring from the past with me. And I'm the Dragonborn.

I wasn’t sure about why I said that. Maybe because I was tired of being perceived as a simple traveler, or maybe because Ulfric was an important figure and the part of me convinced I had something to do with Talos wanted to make sure I didn’t stay behind. But mostly, I think I said it because it was the truth, and the Jarl seemed able to understand it better than most people. In fact, his surprise was minimal.

\- So you're the one the Greybeards called. That means you have the Dragon Blood, the inborn ability to use your Voice the way dragons do. The old tales tell of Dragonborn heroes who slew dragons and took their power – He wondered, observing me again, and I wasn’t afraid of showing myself. I was strong, and even if unsure of my own path, I hoped to restore peace between the beings represented by my blood: High elves, Nords and Dragons. If not anything else, that was a noble goal, right? - It seems those tales are true. With the dragons returning, and now a Dragonborn appearing... Have you already met with the Greybeards? They are masters of the Way of the Voice, of Shouting, and live in seclusion near the top of the Throat of the World, the great mountain of Skyrim. It's a great honor for them to summon you. They speak to very few. In fact, they hardly speak at all.

\- I did. How do you know so much about them? 

\- I studied with them when I was young. They taught me how to Shout.

It was my turn to be caught by surprise, even though recognizance was a better word. 

\- You trained with the Greybeards? 

\- Yes. They chose me when I was just a lad. It was a great honor, of course – I was glad he didn’t downplay it - I was to become a Greybeard myself. I spent almost ten years at High Hrothgar, learning the Way of the Voice. Then the Great War came... I couldn't stand missing it – The pauses between his sentences suggested he was deep in thought, possibly remembering his own training there - I often think about High Hrothgar. It's very... disconnected from the troubles down here. But that's why I couldn't stay, and why I couldn't go back. I suppose the Greybeards care about Skyrim's troubles, in their way, but I needed to do something about it. I'm sure Arngeir would call it one of my failings.

I wondered if he regretted it. 

\- Do you know many Shouts? Is it true you Shouted the King to death? 

\- I rarely use my training. The Greybeards believe the Voice should be used only for the worship of Kynareth. I have... fallen from their strict teaching, but I still don't feel it should be used lightly. Not all of Arngeir's lecturing was wasted, it seems. In relation to shouting the King to death, it’s not entirely true, though not entirely false either. Any Nord can learn the Way of the Voice by studying with the Greybeards, given enough ambition and dedication. My shouting Torygg to the ground proved he had neither. However, it was my sword piercing his heart that killed him. 

\- Why would they teach me to Shout if they don't want me to use it? 

\- You're Dragonborn. The rules don't apply to you. You can Shout the way dragons do... without training, through inborn instinct. They always hope to teach the Dragonborn to respect the Way of the Voice as they do – He tilted his head to the side, conceding the attempt but also how futile it was - They never fully succeed. You'll have to make your own decision. It's a beautiful philosophy, but outside the seclusion of High Hrothgar, I was never able to hold to it.

\- I… agree that living with the Greybeards is a bit like living in a different world – I was simply speaking the truth, and happy to have someone who understood the experience even better than me, yet my comment got Ulfric to smile. But I couldn’t smile back. I had other questions in mind - Why did you kill the High King? – That put the seriousness of his task back on his shoulders. 

\- I killed Torygg to prove our wretched condition. Our own Jarls, once strong, wise men, have become fearful and blind to their people's suffering. How is the High King supposed to be the defender of Skyrim, if he can't even defend himself? Skyrim needs heroes, and there's no one else but us. Untold numbers of Nords died defending the Empire against the Dominion. And for what? Skyrim being sold to the Thalmor so the Emperor could keep his throne! 

\- Some call you a murderer – I hoped to not be feeding his outburst. But I wasn’t. He lived with monks, after all. He could control himself with breathing and focus, and I was sure he was aware there was no accusation behind my question. I was simply trying to understand. 

\- I challenged him in the traditional way, and he accepted – He explained calmy - There were many witnesses. No "murder" was committed. True, he didn't stand a chance against me. But that was precisely the point! He was a puppet-king of the Empire, not a High King of Skyrim. His father before him perhaps, but not Torygg. He was too privileged and too foolish, more interested in entertaining his queen than ruling his country.

\- And what of his widow? Doesn't she claim the throne? – It was strange to hear such a low opinion about a person I never met…

\- Indeed, Elisif has become Jarl of Solitude, historically and conveniently home of the High King, backed by Imperial interests. But the Moot has not yet met to name her High Queen. And they won't. Not as long as I have any say in it.

\- Do you desire to be the High King? – The question got out before I could plan it, and yet, I didn’t regret what I asked. This, this was what would allow me insight into his true intentions.

\- There hasn't been a true High King in Skyrim for generations – He simply stated, and the rest of the answer was predictable - For too long he's been hand-picked by the Emperor, and given emphatic nods by milk-drinking Jarls addicted to Imperial coin. It's time we had a real king… One of our own making.

His tone was lower on that last sentence, not like a snarl, but like he was contemplating an absolute truth. This was where his noble goal conflicted with his own ambitions. It scared me. But I didn’t let it show, and fished for more information, as if I completely agreed with his previous statement. 

\- How did you become the Jarl of Eastmarch? 

\- My father, the great Bear of Eastmarch, died during my imprisonment after the Markarth Incident. I, his only son, forced to deliver his eulogy via a letter I had smuggled out of prison. Such is the love of Titus Mede for his subjects. When finally set free, I returned to Windhelm, and was greeted by a city in mourning, at one with my own grief and anger. Clamoring in angry voices, calling out for justice, for war, they sat me on the throne. The Throne of Ysgramor! The throne of my father... I only hope I can prove worthy of the honor.

\- I… had no idea about any of that – The books never shared those details. 

\- And I don’t fault you for it. It’s a part of the story the Empire wants to erase, so that the Stormcloaks can be more easily painted as villains. But enough of this. Speak with Galmar. He'll size you up and see where we can best use your talents.

He dismissed me. Therefore, I went back to the War Room without Marcurio, where Galmar was already expecting me, arms crossed. 

\- I heard everything said in the throne room, Talos – He clarified - Hmm. Helgen, eh? Ulfric told us quite the story. If you made it through all that, you're likely worth something to me... But first, tell me. Why's an Elf, or in your case only half, want to fight for Skyrim?

\- So, you only take Nords? – I retorted brusquely. 

\- You mistake me. I'm not saying no, just wondering about your intentions. We're not looking for sellswords. The Stormcloaks need dedicated men and women who're devoted to the cause, and willing to die for it.

\- Skyrim is home to more than just Nords – I pointed out, still trying to digest his exact choice of words that I’ve already heard many times.

\- Fair enough. But are you willing to die for your home?

\- I may, and I may bleed for the cause. Hope you can still accept me if I'm neither man or woman.

To that, he sent me a side glance, as if I was crazy. Then, as typical of this kind of people, simply ignored what he didn’t consider relevant and turned back to studying the map.

\- I don't understand how you can be neither. But, as long as you hate the Empire as much as I do, that I can work with. Before I can put you to use, I need to know how much you can take. I have a little test for you.

\- What kind of test? 

\- The kind men use to measure themselves. And woman, or whatever. I'm sending you to Serpentstone Island. If you survive, you pass. If you die, well, you weren't going to be much use to me anyway.

\- I can’t argue with that – I simply shrugged - What's at Serpentstone Island? 

\- It's where Nords have tested their mettle for ages. There's a strange rock formation, built by the ancients. Something about that place attracts the Ice Wraiths. You kill an Ice Wraith out there, and I'll have all the proof I need about you.

\- Does every recruit have to do this? 

\- Only the ones I'm not sure about. This will prove your abilities, but more importantly, it will prove your commitment.

I leaned with my back against the table, pondering. Was it really worth it? Would I really like to join?

\- Before going, can I ask some questions? - He nodded - What are your reasons for joining the war? 

\- Reasons? – He sounded outraged - Since when does a man need a reason to protect his family, to defend his homeland? I'm not a foreigner. It's the damn outlanders and Empire that need the reasons.

\- But hasn't Skyrim always been a part of the Empire? – I was honestly curious. They were technically the same people…

\- Not this Empire. The world's better without it, certainly Skyrim is – Alleged him - I fought in the Imperial army, in the war against the Dominion; I bled and spilled blood for the Empire. And for what? The Empire to bend its knee before those evil Elf bastards? Signing a treaty meant to kill the heart of the Empire itself? To deny Talos? No, I will have no part in any such Empire, and I will gladly gut anyone who says otherwise.

\- Do you oppose anyone who's not a Nord? 

\- I oppose tyranny – That probably should have been taken as a no. And indeed, it showed me that he was able to recognize that not being a Nord was not synonym with being an oppressor of Skyrim. But if he knew that, why always chose words that generalized and associated people that had anything in common but their race? - I oppose those who tell me how to live, what to think, and what to believe. I am a man. Skyrim is a man's homeland. That is a fact, a fact I'm proud of. There is no shame in that. If you claim Skyrim is your home as well, read your history.

\- I’ve been reading… - I grumbled under my breath – One last question: What is the aim of this war? 

\- Ha, that’s easy. First, we'll kick the Thalmor and their bloody Imperial puppets out of the country. Then, we will rebuild Skyrim into the land she once was. When we are done with that, we will take our army to the Dominion, and show those pointy-eared bastards not every man is fit to be their slave.

After leaving the room and assuring Marcurio that I hadn’t yet decided what to do about my test, I was authorized to navigate the castle freely - or as freely as I could, considering there were guards everywhere. It was divided into four sections attached to the main hall. Besides the war room, there was a kitchen and food storage room, an alchemy and enchanting room for the court-mage, baths, a shrine with a huge statue of Talos where people could go to pray without exiting the castle, and plenty of richly decorated bedrooms for everyone, with tapestries and banners, furs, paintings, cushions and low tables, hearths and food.

Apparently, no city was exempt from orphans. Before entering the castle, I have heard the poeple here talk about a boy called Aventus Aretino who had come from Riften and was now trying to contact The Dark Brotherhood. After requesting more information and discussing with Marcurio, I understood this was the boy who had run from the orphanage and was trying to get Grelod the Kind killed, something most people in Riften actually approved, but here was seen as an atrocity. 

Of course, I had to climb his house and peek through the window. 

I saw a boy on his knees in the middle of a ritual circle made with chalk. The circle was surrounded by candles. But what really perturbed me was the effigy of the intended victim, just like I read that was required to perform the Black Sacrament, inside the circle: a skeleton, flesh, and a heart. And the boy started stabbing the effigy with a dagger. 

For each time he stabbed the heart, he recited a verse of the plea intended to contact the Night Mother:

\- Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear. – He hiccupped and took a deep breath – So… very tired… - He despaired. But was also determined. He straightened the shoulders in a demonstration of courage atypical for a child, probably inspired by the bravery of adult Nords, and stabbed the effigy with more strength than before – Die, Grelod, die!

And then the boy noticed me.

I tried to get down before he could really get a hold of me, I really did, but he got up faster than I expected and came to the window with a large smile. I only had time to look to Marcurio and sign to him to wait, before the boy opened the window and pulled me inside. 

\- It worked! - Exclaimed him, with the excitement of a child – I knew you’d come, I just knew it! I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body and the... the things. And then you came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood.

I sighed, and regretted not having my helmet on to hide my face.

\- I'm sorry, boy, but I'm not who you think I am – I tried to tell him.

\- Of course you are! I prayed, and you came, and now you'll accept my contract.

\- Contract? – I didn’t like where this was going…

\- My mother, she... she died – He managed to say, and even though I already knew that, I still felt pity for him. In the end, he still retained some innocence, despite all that he had already gone through - I... I'm all alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she's not kind, she's terrible. To all of us. So I ran away, and came home. And performed the Black Sacrament. Now you're here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind!

A wish like that from a child really bothered me. And yet, for him to wish that, the old crone should be really horrible, even worse than what I saw in my brief visit to the orphanage. I didn’t give any kind of answer, and yet, the boy seemed even more sure about my decision than I was.

\- Please hurry – He pleaded, when I turned to exit from the window - To be honest, I'm kind of lonely here. As much as I hated getting sent to Honorhall, I really miss my friends there... 

I didn’t tell Marcurio about my decision, only that we were going back to Riften, but I think he understood. He didn’t seem happy about it, and neither was I. But someone who hurts children simply doesn’t deserve much compassion…

And I found another orphan in the city. A girl named Sofie, with around 12 years old, with slick long brown hair, dressed in a torn and dirty dress that probably has been purple originally. She was selling flowers to get some money, she needed it if she wanted to eat. Well, my patience with how orphans were treated in Skyrim reached its limit: I gave her almost all the food we found in the bandits camp, money enough to buy a room in the Candleheart Hall during a week, and told her to wait there for a woman named Lydia and to go back with her. She was going to be adopted. She just started crying and laughing at the same time. 

How did I manage to summon Lydia? By finding someone willing to go to Whiterun and deliver my message to her, saying that she should come for Sofie, who would probably be found in the inn, and to introduce her to Lucia as her new sister. If I couldn’t find anyone, I could always send Marcurio and consider that as his fulfillment of the deal. But I found that Nord who wanted to study magic in the College of Winterhold, on his way to leave the city. 

\- Yes, I’m going to the College. Have you come to mock me? I don’t think there’s anything you can tell me that my family hasn’t told already… 

\- That’s not it, I…

\- Sorry, then – He interrupted, disheveling his hair - I was too defensive… Let me start again: I’m Onmund. I want to be a mage. Have you approached me because you wanted to go to the College as well? It would be nice to not be the only Nord around… 

\- I could, err, possibly visit, one day – I didn’t want to disappoint him, but magic wasn’t my cup of tea - but I wanted to ask a favor of you. Since you are leaving, can’t you go to Whiterun first and deliver a message to a woman named Lydia, in Breezehome?

\- Oh – He blinked – Whiterun… It’s a long detour from my original plans, even if you pay me… I just want to study magic, you see?

\- Humm…. Have you heard about Farengar Secret-Fire? The court-mage there? – I had an idea.

\- Absolutely, the story of how he obtained his title is amazing! And I know he as been studying the reappearance of the dragons as well.

\- What if I granted you the chance of studying with him before going to the College? I’m the Thane of Whiterun. I could give you a letter of recommendation – I suggested.

He immediately accepted. So I and Marcurio went back to Riften, and I felt in peace with myself, despite the assassination I was about to carry.


	11. We know

It had been raining for hours now, the patter of water against the surfaces long faded to a dull rush in the back of my mind. Marcurio attempted to shield us with a spell, but he was unable to hold it long enough for us to reach Riften, and we were too far from any farm, house or shelter. Our best option was to continue, and the horses, tired and as uncomfortable as we were, trailed along the muddy forest with their heads down. The cold droplets soaked through the coat and ran along my body, remembering me I was alive. The same would be impossible to say about Grelod The Kind, after this night. 

And indeed, we reached Riften at sunset. We returned the horses to Shadr – who wasn’t exactly happy with our treatment of them – and I sent Marcurio to the inn to take care of himself while I went to the Ratway through the passage in the cemetery. There, I changed into dry clothes – or as dry as I could find – and drowned my hesitance in mead, while ignoring the comments of the thieves about my dark mood. Some of them were nice, though, and seemed seriously worried about me. 

Before I wished, it was bedtime.

I departed from the hideout a little before that, to spy my target and ensure everything would go according to the plan. I moved in the shadows, my mouth covered, hood pulled. I wasn’t wearing the Guild’s uniform – only the shoes and the gloves, to make my job easier – to avoid tainting its reputation with murder, in case something went wrong. I peeked through the Orphanage's window, and was on time of seeing the old hag “wishing goodnight” to her little prisoners.

\- Those who shirk their duties will get an extra beating. Do I make myself clear? – She screeched.

\- Yes, Grelod – Chanted the children in unison, sounding tired. 

\- And one more thing! I will hear no more talk of adoptions! None of you riff-raff is getting adopted. Nobody needs you, nobody wants you. That, my darlings, is why you're here. Why you'll always be here, until you come of age and get thrown into that wide, horrible world - Declared Grelod, and for a second, I feared she was able to convince the kids that she was saying the truth. Maybe she even believed it... I breathed deeply, and concentrated on the task at hands - Now, what do you all say?

\- We love you, Grelod. Thank you for your kindness.

\- That's better. Now scurry off, my little guttersnipes.

“You’re the one who’ll scurry off, you heartless demon”.

I didn’t have to wait long before everyone went to sleep, including the other woman, Constance, and Grelod herself. Now, I couldn’t be certain that any of them were fully asleep, even after waiting, and children commonly woke up at the minimal sound. But that didn’t stop me. So I sliped through a loose window, between two of the children’s beds, and tried to move to the hag’s bedroom.

And one of the boys was staring wide-eyed at me!

Creepy, stupid child. I almost braced myself to contain the shivers, and was glad to not have jumped with the scare. I didn’t know what to do, but he reacted first. He simply whispered to me: 

\- Did Aretino sent you?

My mind went blank for a second. When I understood, I felt relief and alarm at the same time. All of the kids knew what Aretino aimed to do, apparently. And they would just let me get away with the murder without calling the guards… "Better take advantage of that", I shrugged mentally. I raised a finger to the front of my mouth, asking for silence, and the boy just smiled and pretended to sleep. 

I pushed the wooden door to the bedroom just enough to stalk the old woman. She was clearly asleep, snoring in her large bed, an arm thrown across it, chest facing the ceiling. I went inside as silently as I could and closed the door behind me, taking my dagger out. 

“It’s so easy to kill someone…” – I thought. Or at least, the action itself was. I wasn't sure why I was making a big deal out of this: I had taken lives before. In self-defense, sure, but to which extend was the defense of others different? Besides, wasn't that what heroes did? Protect people unable to protect themselves? Why would this be considered murder when, if this woman was a bandit and I was sent by a Jarl, it would be acceptable? Were adults, especially the powerful ones, the only people deserving of autonomy and with the right of getting rid of those who complicated their lives? "Still, this woman isn't killing the children. The Thieves Guild always manages to get rid of people without killing - what if I could get Grelod in prison?...". I entertained the notion on my mind, but knew that kind of solution wouldn't be permanent. And again, this was what the children wanted. It was time they got some satisfaction out of all they suffered.

\- Aretino says hello… - I whispered.

And buried the dagger in the woman’s heart, just like Aretino did to the effigy. 

She opened her eyes and mouth from where only a strangled gasp came out, and died petrified with an expression of horror. I had the decency of closing her eyes before leaving.

* * *

Next morning, Sapphire awakened me with a shake.

\- Someone killed the old crone! – She said – Come see, Brynjolf is already there congratulating the kids.

When we got to the surface, more people than I expected were surrounding the Orphanage. Including the guards. Funny thing was, I was used at this point to their laziness, but they were not only uncaring about the fact that there had been an assassination, they also noted that “The kids are better off now”. Even Mjoll, who was among the crowd, had a hard time considering her death “wrong”. Brynjolf was the closest to the children, playing with them and assuring that everything would be fine from now on. The kids were cheering and exclaiming they wanted to be assassins when they grew up, and when the boy who noticed me during the past night looked at me and started whispering to the little girl at his side, I got the feeling he recognized me. While Brynjolf used his way with words to calm Constance, and the body was retrieved from the house, I found Marcurio among the crowd.

\- Divines smile on you – He wished. But he was the one to smile. 

And I smiled back. 

I felt so proud…

After a secret celebratory picnic between the two of us, we went on our way to Whiterun. Finally. And this time, we intended to go on foot. Yet, right before we crossed to the other side of the gates, a man wearing what I came to understand as the courier’s hat approached me. 

\- I've been looking for you – He simply stated, without even asking for my name or titles - Got something I'm supposed to deliver, your hands only – He gave me a folded letter.

\- Are you, hum, sure it’s for me? – I didn’t want to question the man’s job, but that sounded like a scheme. Or maybe he was confusing me with someone he met before...? If it was serious and it wasn’t for me, however, it was already in the wrong hands – Have we met?

\- Not that I remember, no. But I’m sure it’s for you. Well, I have to go – He turned, closing his bag at the same time – Important deliveries to make. No time for chatting! – He run to the opened gate and turned right.

\- Wait!...

But when I was outside the city and looked in the direction he went, he was nowehere to be seen.   
There was no way I could return the letter now… I sighted, hearing Marcurio grumble about the "crazy man", and opened it. My heart stopped for a second, at seeing a black imprint of a hand in the middle of the paper. Written beneath it, there were only two words: “We Know”. 

\- Of course this is a joke. That courier is so creepy… - I complained, sensing Marcurio looking from behind my shoulder.

\- Is that the symbol of the Dark Brotherhood? Don’t crumpl!... – Too late. I had already crumpled it. But he just took it from my hands and tried to straighten the roll again. I saw him shiver – Yes, this is definitely from the Brotherhood. Well, Aretino was doing the Black Sacrament, so it makes sense they are informed about the victims of their contracts... – He was thinking out loud.

\- Well, I just did them a favor, right? – He shrugged – What do you think they mean by the letter, is that a threat? – I bombarded him with the questions, my mind racing behind the possibilities of what I unleashed with my kill. 

\- Shh, shh – He put a hand over my mouth - Calm down. This may only mean that they have their eyes on you, a kind of warning for you to not get tangled in their contracts anymore. Or, I don’t know, maybe they found it interesting. Anyway, don’t rush to conclusions. 

\- You’re right - I admitted, wondering if I should meditate and apply the Greybeards teachings - Let’s just continue with our plans…

But that first night, when all was dark and the firepit close to us made all shadows even sharper, I wasn’t expecting to get much sleep. The mage had already extended our bedrolls and eaten a stew of beef and carrots we had brought, also cooked by him because he noticed in our first trip that I sucked at cooking. I have done my share of tasks as well, like finding wood and a scouting of the terrain, and recognized his cooking abilities were better than mine. After doing the flexibility and endurance routine the Greybeards had taught me, and meditating, I was now catching up with my readings close to the fire. Truth be told, I was just postponing sleep hours, in a futile hope that the sun would rise sooner today. Throughout the day, I had felt that something – someone – had been following us, and while I could never find anything to prove my fears, I couldn’t shake that sensation either. 

Marcurio, already under the blanket, was looking at me, with an arm supporting his head:

\- Can’t sleep? You’ve been agitated all day…

\- It was that letter – I admitted - It gave me the chills, and during the entire day I had the sensation something stalked us… - I clasped my hands - Sorry for being paranoid. With all my meditation training and powers, I should feel calmer by now.

\- You don’t have to say sorry for something like that – He assured me, almost singing. Then, scratching his cheek while avoiding eye contact… – Besides… Look, I don’t want to sound creepy nor anything, just to help, buuut… If you felt comfortable, I don’t mind sharing my bedroll with you. Just for sleep, of course. Unless you were interested in having more fun.

\- Marcurio! – I exclaimed, not knowing how to feel. Flattered, in a sense, even though I didn’t really wish to “have fun” with him. With anyone, so far. And yet, the idea of sleeping close to someone brought me a sense of comfort I actually longed for… - Are you serious? – I risked - And, hum, you wouldn’t mind if it was just sleeping?

\- I’m perfectly serious, yes. Don’t worry, I’m not horny, and it’s not like I would try anything against the Dragonborn, right? – He joked.

I was a Thane, a Dragonborn and had chosen the name “Talos” for myself, identifying with it. I was sure Talos would have never slept with someone who barely knew for a week, and I had more pride than that, right?

Wrong. 

I crawled towards his bedroll and got underneath the blankets before any of us could change our minds, my back turned against him. My face felt hot, even more when he hugged me from behind, his embrace equally warm and secure. But he was so calm and I felt so safe, that it didn’t take more than two minutes for me to relax against his chest. Feeling the rhythm of his heart, the steady breaths against the back of my neck…

“I’m touch starved”, I realized, with small doses of horror and shame thrown in the mix. It made sense: the only person I got close to was Lydia, and while our relationship had developed a lot from Thane and Housecarl, she never seemed like a physically affectionate person, and I couldn’t remember any kind of touch between us, except when she shaved my hair before we left High Hrothgar. I remembered hugging Hadvar in Riverhood and touching hands with people, and hugged my daughter before, a lot. Those were probably the only reasons I endured so long without realizing this. I knew people, or at least most people, needed to touch others, but what was I to do? I certainly wouldn’t do it with complete strangers, I didn’t want to ruin relationships I already had established, and I wasn’t interested in sex, honestly. A part of my brain actually repelled that very idea. So how could I approach a person for cuddling without making it awkward and giving the wrong impression? I just couldn’t. But Marcurio made it so easy, that I was glad I had accepted.

In the morning, I awoke feeling well-rested, and took my sweet time to prepare for the day. Marcurio was already awaken, and he had prepared breakfast for both of us.

\- If I ever marry – I digressed, with my mouth full – It will have to be with a person that treats me like you.

We both laughed. 

\- Well, I’ve been honest with you from the beginning: I have many charms – He winked.

We covered a lot of terrain that day, and almost reached Ivarstead. I still had the sensation that we were being followed, but my brain was less focused on that and more on how beautiful the landscape could be in a day clear of clouds. The relaxed attitude of Marcurio, even when a bit forced with the intention of distracting me, was contagious, and at night we decided to share the BlackBriar bottle we had brought. I thought the flavor had something strange to it, but it was probably because I still wasn’t used to this brand of mead. That night, I didn’t feel the need for sleeping with Marcurio. I still felt calm, and the sky was breathtaking: As I rested below the glow of greens and purples of the aurora – Kyne’s lights, as he called it – I felt at peace in Tamriel’s grand wilderness for the first time.

I shouldn’t have.

* * *

When I managed to open my eyes, my vision was blurry, and yet, I could make sense of a red and black garb above my level. A person.

I got up suddenly, feeling dizzy, hand looking for any weapon at my belt. I found it. And I was also still dressed in my steel armor. And I had my bags…

“Why would a bandit leave me with all these?”. The laugh I heard was what Tamriel called feminine, and so was the silhouette, whose armor was tight but looked resistant and able to adhere well to movements, accompanied by a matching hood and mask to cover the mouth. She sat on top of a closet, back against the wall, balancing a leg suspended below. 

\- Sleep well? – She simply said, amusement in her voice. 

She wasn’t a bandit. “She’s from the Dark Brotherhood…”. That thought came with a certainty I didn't know I could feel, but all made sense now: The strange flavor I felt yesterday while drinking the mead still lingered in my mouth. Poison. I didn’t know how the guild managed to poison the precise bottle I bought, but now I was sure it left me asleep for a long time, maybe days. And since me and Marcurio shared, he had probably been poisoned as well. I could only hope he was safe. 

\- Where am I? – I demanded - Who are you? 

\- Who I am really isn't as important as what I am – She purred, and I noticed she had almond-shaped blue eyes - And what I am is an admirer. Of sorts. Does it matter? You're warm, dry... and still very much alive. That's more than can be said for old Grelod. Hmm?

\- How do you know about that? – I regretted that question as soon as it came out. If she was bluffing, now I gave her all the confirmation she needed. And if she did, in fact, know, my question was just stupid. But she didn't throw my own stupidity to my face and simply answered. 

\- Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around. Oh, but don't misunderstand – She was playing with her dagger, spinning it in her hand - I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming. And you saved a group of urchins, to boot. Ah, but there is a slight... problem.

The inflection of her voice was almost cute, if not for the threat hovering in the air. I remained silent for a while. But before she could break the silence, I found an answer I could be proud of: 

\- Does that problem really matter? You're warm, dry... and still very much alive.

The woman just gave a crystalline laugh.

\- That was a good one, really… Just because of it, I’ll tell who I am. I am the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Name’s Astrid. You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for me, and my associates. Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill... that you stole. A kill you must repay.

\- You want me to murder someone else?! – I hoped to be wrong, but the glint in her eyes told me I wasn’t – That doesn’t even make sense, I would just be stealing another of your contracts!.., And how would I even do that?

\- Well now. Funny you should ask. If you turn around, you'll notice my guests. I've collected them from... well, that's not really important – She disregarded it with a gesture, just as she ignored my questioning of her logic - The here and now. That's what matters. You see, there's a contract out on one of them, and that person can't leave this room alive. But... which one? Go on, see if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill, I just want to observe... and admire.

\- I'll have no part of this insanity – I snarled.

\- Now that is a shame. But what you fail to realize is that you involved yourself in this "insanity" when you took Grelod's life – She retorted, and I admitted to myself that she was right - You made your choice. Now it's time to face the consequences of your actions. You don't leave this shack until someone dies. Make your kill, and we're square. Repayment of your debt is but a discreet knife thrust away.

In that moment, I heard someone scream furiously:

\- Cowards! Stealing a woman from her home! For shame!

I turned to the other side of the wooden shack, that seemed to have been occupied at a not too distant date. There was a fire in the grate, and a table and chairs set up. There were also cages. However, the fresh bloodstains on the walls and floor suggested that whomever lived here was killed quite recently. Close to the farest wall, there were three individuals with a bag over their heads, forced to kneel due to the rope that bounded the wrists behind their backs to their ankles. The person in the middle was shaking with every scream. 

I approached her. 

\- Who are you? 

\- None of your damned business who I am! If you're going to kill me, just do it already! As Mara is my witness, if I didn't have this hood on right now I would spit right in your face...

\- Would someone pay to have you killed? – I interrupted her. Maybe I could get something with this question, maybe one of the victims would either confess or tell obvious lies.

\- Excuse me? What kind of question is that? 

\- It's all right – I tried to soothe her, despite wishing to do the precise opposite. Stupid people were everywhere… - Just tell me what I need to know. 

\- I'm a woman living in Skyrim with six children and no husband – She screeched - I don't have the time or patience to be "nice." Do some people look down on me? Have I made some enemies? You're damn right.

“Well, that didn’t help much”.

The same went for the answer of the other two. 

“My name is Fultheim. I'm a soldier. Well, mercenary, really. You know, a... a sellsword. I've lived in Skyrim all my life” – That was a Nord. He was the more cooperative, and while he admitted that his profession increased the possibility of someone putting a contract on his life, he didn’t want to die.

“Ahhh... Vasha, at your service. Obtainer of goods, taker of lives, and defiler of daughters. Have you not heard of me? Perhaps I will have my people carve my name in your corpse, as a reminder” – That was a Khajit.

I didn’t know if he was the one with the contract. I didn’t care. Not when he admitted so light-heartedly to his crimes, as if it was all a game that he had been winning. Well, now he just lost. I chopped his head off with more strength than it required, and the other two prisoners just screamed at the sounds. It was a pity so many Khajit surrendered to this kind of life, tainting the reputation of the race when there weren’t enough Khajits in Skyrim to counter the negative impression. Well, now there was one less.

\- The conniving Khajiit... – Pondered Astrid - Cat like that was sure to have enemies. It's no wonder you chose him.

\- So who was it? – I confronted her, bothered that she called him “cat” and approaching - Who had the contract? 

\- Oh. No, no, no. Don't you understand? – She asked with amusement - Guilt, innocence, right, wrong.... Irrelevant. What matters is I ordered you to kill someone, and you obeyed. – “And I felt bad for it…”

\- Doesn’t that make a difference to you? – I insisted - Won’t you still kill the person with the contract if I picked up wrong? Or will you free the others?

\- No one is really free. But you’re right: The Dark Brotherhood always fulfills its contracts. Here's the key to the shack. – She threw me a small object, and my reflexes made catching it easy even with the residues of the poison.

\- So... I'm free to go? – I wouldn’t get anything else from her.

\- Of course. And you've repaid your debt, in full. But why stop here? – When I looked at her, surprised, I saw a smile in her eyes. Did she find everything funny? - I say we take our relationship to the next level. I would like to officially extend to you an invitation to join my Family. The Dark Brotherhood… In the southwest reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you'll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It's just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct passphrase: "Silence, my brother." Then you're in. And your new life begins. 

\- I’d rather know where I am now – I rolled my eyes and didn’t even dignify to answer.

\- Somewhere between Solitude and Morthal.

“Shit, that’s far from Whiterun.” And in the other half of the map, completely unknown to me. The poison she gave me was really potent, for it to last this far… 

She had no intention to move. I made my way to the exit, and unlocked the door. As soon as I stepped one foot outside, I heard her goodbye:

\- I'll see you at home.


	12. The Silence Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new structure of Breezehome is starting to look more like this mod from Elianora: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1IYsnVqEpc (the version with the children beds in the top floor where some people have an extra alchemy lab instead, like shown here in the last images https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/49347). The room with the baths would also have a small area for a toilet and sink, like in this mod: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUAPz3xkSdE

Despite not knowing the area, with Solitude this visible it was easy to situate me on the map. The cabin was near a river that joined the ocean surrounding the cliffs where Solitude was built. Down here, the docks were pretty close, and in the daylight I could see how busy and loud the workers were, carrying boxes out of a ship. But the most impressive part was the walled city built over the rocks, the formation bent in an archway too perfect to be natural, and the castle at the end of the cliff: The Blue Palace.

It was tempting to pay a visit. But I had to know how much time passed since I was captured, and to find out what happened to Marcurio, so I made the conscious decision of not stopping in any big city.  
This was probably the kind of circumstance where I would benefit of meditation the most, but I had no time to lose. I contented myself with the beauty of the land around me, the sounds of running water and birds, the purple Deathbell flowers…

I had enough supplies for a few days, but was happy to find out that the path I chose took me across a village: Rorikstead.

It was one of the most impressive villages I’ve ever seen, with rich plantations of all varieties of vegetables and crops, fat chickens, healthy horses and cows, a well that never brought diseases (according to the villagers)… its people had everything they needed there. All of it was divided into two farms, one run by Lemkil, and another by Ennis. The Nord in charge of the village, Rorik, took my interested and amazement at the plantations as an excuse to invite me to his house and explain everything about the farm. He had a cozy little home, but I found that he had crystals and soul gems on shelves, and books talking about Daedra Princes, unusual interests for a farmer. He told me that he served the Imperial Army in the Great War, as a commander, until he was left to die. But he was healed by Jouane Manette, a Breton who decided to found this settlement with him, and it never stopped growing, not even during the current war. When I asked him what was the secret to their farming methods, he scoffed a little too strongly: “Secret? What makes you think there's a secret? There are no secrets here, my curious friend. Our prosperity is simply the result of hard work, good fortune and the blessings of the gods.” But I had worked with Marry and Geralt for weeks and never saw anything like this come out of our effort.

I decided to buy supplies and was thankful that this farm offered me an excellent alternative to hunting. But as I explored, I saw more people with soul gems, even carrying it in their pockets, and in the inn. I saw no women, and the only children were the twin daughters of Lemkil, who he very much despised and said they were good for nothing, despite the fact that they helped with the farm. I even saw Sissel running to meet Jouanne to learn magic from him, and she was very talented despite her age. Her teacher agreed, but asked me to keep it a secret. The girl, on the other hand, was determined to learn to “stop being afraid”, and I got from her words that she received beatings both from her father and her sister. To top it all, I remembered where I heard the name of the Village before, besides being written in the map of Skyrim: in the song Ragnar the Red! The song mentions “old Rorikstead”, and I always thought it referred to a Steading from the First Era, but now the village chief claimed it was built by him. He could have been exaggerating, and simply continued to expand an already existing city, but in that case, why would the village be named after him?

Something here was very wrong.

I felt bad for leaving the girls, especially Sissel, but I had an idea of what I could do fix the situation. And in the back of my mind, my “encounter” with Astrid started to look like the best opportunity ever offered to me…

When I finally sighted Whiterun, I felt battered. 4 days, was all it took me to reach the Hold. And to my surprise, Marcurio was outside, telling jokes at a guard. “Well, he’s fine. Of course he is.” I felt like an idiot. But I still clasped his shoulder and gave an apologizing smile. He just finished his joke and came with me to the gates.

\- Do you even know what happened? – I asked - Are you mad with me?

\- For ditching me? Yes, I clearly am. But I imagine you have a good explanation – We entered the city with the guards questioning or stopping him.

\- I see you’ve made friends. How have you gained entrance? – I wondered.

\- Well, you see, I was planning how I could employ my charms when that aspiring mage from Windhelm that you sent here with a message decided it was time to go to the College, and I asked him to vouch for me. He told the guards I was a friend of yours, and they were satisfied with that.

\- Glad to see my position is useful – I retorted, elbowing him.

\- And thanks to that, starting exactly now, I will still benefit from it despite not being any longer in your service – He happily announced.

I stopped.

\- Wait… - My brain was still processing – You don’t mean…?

\- That I just escorted you into Whiterun, as promised. What other reason would I have to be outside, when I can already enter freely? I’d much rather be in a tavern. – He wore a triumphant expression.

\- Your smartass, arrogant pack-mule! – I smacked his back – I could have been dead! And so could you, but I paid you for my protection! – He just laughed, and I joined – Bah… well, now that you’re here, you can just as well visit my house. It’s nothing fancy, but feel welcome. Oh, but let’s talk before we enter… I don’t want to scare my children with my adventures – I started leading him to the tree in the Wind district.

\- Children? Not child?

\- That girl Sofie is not my only daughter. I also adopted Lucia, who lived here before, younger than Sofie by… what, four years?

We sat on the benches around the tree as I explained to him what happened, how Astrid invited me to the Dark Brotherhood and even my suspicions of Rorikstead. Marcurio advised me to be cautious with the attention I was calling to myself, but never made me feel stupid, paranoid or morally bad, and I was thankful for it, since my conscience was enough to do that. I also asked him to avoid these kinds of topics around my children – I didn’t want them to turn like those kids at Riften’s Orphanage, at least not while they were too young to understand the implications of committing a crime.

At each passing minute, I felt more tired, and greeting every person that recognized me with a smile drained the energy I had left. So entering Breezehome was a relief.

As soon as I unlocked the house, I heard some heavy tumps and in a fragment of a second, Lydia was in front of me, wearing full armor, pointing a sword at my neck. I blocked by instinct, announcing a quick “Lydia, it’s me!” She blinked, recognizing me. She dropped her sword.

\- My Thane! I’m so sorry, you startled me, I…

\- You thought I was an intruder, I understand – I smiled and sheathed my sword, hearing a nervous laugh from her part – It’s good to know you were doing your duty.

\- So this is your famous housecarl… - Rumbled Marcurio, already familiar with Lydia due to everything I told about her. He waited for her attention before presenting himself – I’m Marcurio, a master of magic for hire. I’ve been protecting your Thane since Riften, more a less.

\- Yes, more a less… - We exchanged a look – Our contract has already finished, but I welcomed him here – I explained.

\- I’m glad you have returned and are well – Lydia was relieved, and remembered to open the way for us to circulate around the room, knocking a jar down. That made me wonder how many things she managed to broke while I was away.

At that moment, I heard footsteps on the second floor and saw a little head prying from the top of the stairs. Lucia.

\- Mama! – She exclaimed, stumbling down with the hurry.

\- It’s mama? Oh, welcome! – Sofie followed right behind her.

They both hugged me at the same time, Lucia clinging to my neck and Sofie with her arms around my waist, and I felt so happy to see them together that I started to spin them around by impulse, both at the same time, laughing with them. When I stopped, we were all dizzy, but I had no regrets. Even Lydia and Marcurio laughed at my silly figure.

\- Mama, you took so long to come back!... But I was really happy when you gave me a sister! – Lucia hugged Sofie.

\- Lydia was really scary, but she is also strong and I feel really safe with her. And your house is so beautiful! – The older one exclaimed.

\- I’m so happy for you… - Then, I remembered something - Where have you been sleeping? I don’t have a bed for both.

\- Lydia let us sleep in your bed. It’s really funny, we play under the blankets and tell stories – Explained Sofie.

\- And when Lydia saw that mage Onmund, she almost attacked him before he could say he knew you! – Lucia laughed.

Nothing like children retelling events out of chronological order.

But indeed, Lydia made the right decision. This house was too small now, and it was probably better to expand it. But not yet. Today, I would spend the day taking care of myself and my friends. I warmed water and went upstairs – stating clearly to Marcurio that he wasn’t supposed to follow - to take a bath, and gosh, how I missed hot water! I could spend the rest of the day there, feeling my muscles relax and talking lazily with my daughters who had no shame and therefore I just let them stay there as long as they wanted. I even poured some potions in the water to make bubbles and play with the girls. I also washed my head, whose hair was already big enough to bury my nails in, wondering if I should just give up and let it grow. Finally, I choose a wool tunic among my comfortable clothes, put the armor of the Thieves Guild in the closet – Lucia said that the uniform was pretty – and the Ancient and Steel Armor on the floor to remember to wash later in the water from my bath.

\- You have so many clothes! – Exclaimed Sofie.

\- I told you, mama is important and people like how she is strong – Answered Lucia.

\- But why do you have so many pants? Do ladies use that?

I was thankful to have my head under the robe I was dressing, for it gave me more time to think about an answer.

\- Well… Ladies can use pants and leggings just fine, but not all of them like to use it, and not everyone likes to see a lady with pants. But it’s more practical, and if someone who wants to use it can deal with the comments and is strong enough to fight for what she wants, I think she should do it. The same for men wearing skirts, not like in tunics, but like in dresses.

\- Ooooh – Said both, simultaneously.

\- I want to use pants! – Announced Lucia, climbing to the bed.

\- Then I’ll buy you some – I smiled. Fool me for never asking if she wanted pants before – That said… Maybe you have heard me say this to Lydia before, Lucia, but I’m not really a woman. That is, I don’t see myself as a woman, completely. And not as a man either – They looked confused – I don’t know how to explain this to you, only that I feel that my gender is different, despite my body and independently of how I dress or behave. I could be completely feminine or completely masculine, lady-like or like a man, and I still wouldn’t see myself as any of those.

They looked silent for a while, thinking. I hoped my explanation wouldn’t cause them confusion or problems in the future…

\- So… are you not our mama?

To know that was the only thing that worried Lucia made me so happy that I wanted to hug her, but I decided it was best to answer first.

\- I guess I’m not completely a mama, nor a papa. But there isn’t a word for what I am to you, so you can keep calling me that. And a “she”.

\- We could make a new word! – Suggested suddenly Sofie,

\- You could… - I started, sorry to have to disappoint her and myself – But other people wouldn’t understand, and if they did, they wouldn’t like it.

\- But we are strong and can fight mean people, like you said! – Lucia threw a fist in the air.

I laughed.

\- That would be very brave, thank you. But it’s not worth it. Other people would still see me as a mother, anyway.

They exchanged a look.

\- How do you know you’re not a woman? Or a man? – Wondered Sofie, indeed a good question.

\- It’s just something I… feel.

\- When did you find out? Did you always know?

\- Mama has no memories of her past – Explained Lucia - She woke up in Elwgen and the first memory she has is of fighting a dragon!

I laughed when I realized she wanted to say “Helgen”, she really was young. But maybe I could start to teach her how to read, after all, that would give her a better understanding and I didn’t want my daughters to be illiterate.

\- That’s right – I confirmed, although the part about the dragon was a bit exaggerated – But don’t worry. If any of you ever feels something like that, I’m here to hear about your feelings and help you understand what to do about it.

Lydia and Marcurio were talking with each other, the mage updating the housecarl on my adventures. Maybe he had already told me about my involvement with dubious guilds. “That would be nice, that way I wouldn’t have to feel Lydia's rage when the time came for me to tell her”. But she looked too happy to see me, and I doubted she would behave like that if she knew all of what happened. I trusted Marcurio to get baked potatoes and a roast with a discount from the Bannered Mare – his charm had to be useful for something - since none of the adults in this house was a great cook, and Sophie made me feel ashamed when she showed me she could already contribute with an excellent soup.

\- Don’t worry, mama, we are all good at different things.

\- You’re so mature, Sofie! – I hugged her, moved.

\- Just like her mother, right, my Thane? – This time, the sarcasm in Lydia’s voice was undeniable. I fulminated her with my eyes, and she laughed, becoming suddenly shy a short time after, just like I expected her to do.

Lunch was perfect, both the meal itself and the mood of everyone. I told my own version of my adventures, where the Greybeards had a beard until their feet, Grelod ended in prison instead of dead (and Arentino had asked me a favor as a normal person asks) and I exaggerated some details about meeting with Ulfric. I also made plans for the expansion of the house - Lydia contributed with very useful insights - and since both of us had the right contacts, this shouldn’t prove too hard a task. Marcurio showed some magic tricks that delighted the children and made me call him exhibitionist, while Lydia, as typical of most Nords, didn’t particularly approve. I went to the market with my daughters to buy them new clothes – including pants and short tunics for Lucia – and tell the crowd that surrounded me about my adventures. I decided, that night, to ask Sofie to teach me how to cook. I never thought I would have to ask this from a young girl… Finally, after dinner, I started to try to teach them the letters, and meditated before going to sleep. Marcurio slept at the inn, and I payed, since it wasn’t fair to ask him to spend money for me.

Next day, I woke up with the sun to prepare for the day. I read while I ate the breakfast, then washed my face and put on one of my richest shirts, one with embroidery, leggings and a circlet. I also organized the stuff I brought from my travels in its respective place. As soon as the hour was appropriate, I decided to visit the forge of Adrianne and ask her about how to proceed to expand Breezehome. Honestly, it was extremely different of smithing armors or weapons - I had no idea how to craft hinges, nails or iron fittings, not even locks, even though I was interested in learning how these things worked since it would probably make me better at picking it. I missed working with her, only chatting occasionally because we were focused on our work, appreciating the silent companionship.

For days, my routine was simple and focused on hard work. I woke up early to read, worked at the forge, at lunch I tried my luck at cooking from time to time, then I shopped for any items or food I needed at home and used that time to visit friends, worked at the forge for more two hours, refined my fighting skills by training with the Companions, stretched, washed, dinner, taught the letters to my daughters, meditated and only then I went to sleep. Even with the help of Lydia and Marcurio – who never carried things, making them float with magic instead – I couldn’t remember a time where I was busier, not even when I worked at the farms with Geralt and Mary, who I also visited. I liked adventures. But I also liked… this. To be surrounded by people who trusted and looked up at me, the recompensation and physical weariness resultant of hard work, this peace of mind and the opportunity to just postpone hard decisions and compromises indefinitely.

Finally, it was ready.

Next to the entrance door, I added a small oven, and a vase at the other side. I built also a little wooden counter against the farthest wall and some higher shelves and containers almost against the roof to allow for more food storage. Against the left wall, in front of the stairs, I built shelves for some decorative items and books appropriate for anyone that visited and even my children, like songs, legends and stories. In the circular tower, I added a collection of mannequins that I equipped with my armor sets, and also trophies from my hunts. The top of the tower was furnished simply with a low chair and table, and vases for gardening. The “hall” of the second floor was furnished with a huge chest that I spent days creating, carved in gold and with a special lock crafted by Adrianne, for my treasures, and some weapon racks. At the left of the stairs still on the second floor, I managed to fit a small bedroom for my daughters, with a bed at each side, a chest for their dolls and wood weapons, a wardrobe and a training dummy. Following the right side of the stairs, separated with a wall and strong doors, there was my room, an extensive loft that I loved to furnish: The large bed from before had been polished and carved, and the wool of the fabrics under the pelts looked inviting. I had a bedside table, a wardrobe beside the door, a shelf in front of my bed with only distance enough for a person to reach the other side of the loft, a desk with several paper rolls, ink and feathers and, opposite of the desk, a low iron chest, against the parapet of a window where I placed some plants and a small Shrine of Talos. The previous room where I had the beds for Lucia and Lydia, in the main hall, became my lab and storeroom, and I destroyed the wall that separated it from the main room. I added a small laboratory on top of a desk with plenty of containers built inside, shelves with chests where I could place all the ingredients, potions and items I wanted, and a closet with shelves inside where I could organize all of my skill and informative books. Leaning against the back of the desk, right below the stairs to the second level, I built the stairs to the area underground. Underground, on one side of the corridor, was Lydia’s room, in a clear Nordic style, and opposite from her bedroom, a room for more storage and crafting, since it didn’t make sense to abuse Adrianne’s hospitality and occupy her tools and space when she needed it to work. Following the corridor, separated from it not with doors but with curtains, I built a bathroom, with a stone-built bathtub on the floor surrounded by rocks and plants or fungus that liked the moisture, hidden from the entrance. In front of the curtains, visible from that angle, I added a kind of well built on top of a low wardrobe that Adrianne called a sink, and managed to conduct water to a stone bowl through some strange mechanisms. Against a small corner, I built a toilet for our waste, hidden by a divider to allow for more privacy.

I couldn’t feel more satisfied with the results. It had space for everyone and all of our needs, privacy, and was much more refined and better structured than what Proventus had provided. No wonder the Jarl didn’t trust his advisor.

And yet…

Every time I played or spent time with my daughters, I couldn’t block that naggy feeling that little Sisel was being spanked by her father and sister. That’s why I would always prefer physical enemies: those, I could block and kill, or try to reason with.

That’s how I ended on the road again.

* * *

I brought Lydia with me this time. Marcurio was perfectly capable of taking care of my daughters for a short period of time, and they liked him, besides, I wanted to make sure Lydia would accept that I now was part of some of the most dangerous guilds of Skyrim… and therefore, accept that I had to meet them and keep secret. I felt bad for testing her loyalty and friendship, but if I didn’t trust her, could I even call her a real friend?

We visited Riverwood and I exchanged some words with everyone, especially Alvor the blacksmith and Gerdur. I saw Carmilla, who recognized me, but she was two entertained talking with her two lovers or whatever Sven and Faendal were for her at this point… and they even seemed more reasonable in the company of each other, at least, none tried to slit the other's throat. Delphine was nowhere to be seen. So I put on the light and somewhat sexy Ancient Nord Armor, and followed the instructions Astrid gave me.

There was no clear limit when we reached the Falkreath Hold. It looked like an extension of Whiterun: same climate, same pine trees, same flowers. The only flower that I never saw in Whiterun before was a yellow mountain flower, in a vibrant shade of the color. I also saw Spriggans camouflaged against the trees, and bears, who I decided to leave in peace in their natural habitat. I would certainly visit Falkreath, yes. But now, I was more interested in finding the Dark Brotherhood hideout.

\- Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night in Falkreath, my Thane? It’s already afternoon, and that place you are looking for is either very well hidden, or not here. The only people who live in the middle of the forest are usually bandits…

\- Well… I’m not looking for bandits, but I’m not sure if you would approve of my search – I started. I noticed how she paused through the corner of my eyes, and turned to her – I’ve been trying to tell you some things about my adventures that I avoided near my daughters. Lydia, do you trust me?

\- I… Of course, my Thane. I thought that was already clear.

\- Well, yes. But then you trust I would never do something to hurt other people, right? Unless I thought those people deserved it?

\- Yes, I have no problem with you killing other criminals or enemies of Skyrim.

\- But what if those very criminals were able to do better things for Skyrim than those who aren’t, and are simply here to hurt other people in a legitimate way? Like the owner of an orphanage that beats and abuses the children she is supposed to take care of.

\- That’s horrible…

\- Yes, I agree. And if a criminal is charged with giving her a lesson or even killing her, would that be so bad?

\- Well… I don’t know. But why are you talking about that? You’re meeting with criminals?

I inhaled deeply:

\- I’m meeting with the Dark Brotherhood.

She took a step back, but controlled herself. But more hurtful than her reaction, were her eyes: wide and transfixed on my face, as if she hoped me to say it was all a lie. It wasn’t. But I didn’t want her to feel betrayed.

\- Lydia… please, it’s not as bad as it sounds. I will never kill targets that I believe to be innocent, and…

\- You’re joining them?!

\- Yes! Just like I joined the Thieves Guild! Both to help people!

\- How could that help?! – She yelled, ditching all formalities. She probably realized her behavior, for she hid her eyes behind the palms – I mean no disrespect, but… how can I support a killer?

\- Are you even listening to what I’m saying? – I could feel rage and frustration bubbling in my stomach – That’s… that’s not fair. I’ve freed those children, at the Riften orphanage. If you had seen them, you would agree with me, I’m sure of it. And when the Dark Brotherhood cornered me later, because I stole one of their contracts, I didn’t sympathize with them, and still don’t, but I can exploit their interest in me to do more things like that. There’s a girl in Rorikstead who is spanked by her father, and I want to adopt her, Lydia. If there is a contract on her father's head, why not kill two birds with the same stone? And – She made an attempt to speak, but I wanted to finish – the same with the Thieves Guild: if I’m aware of their plans, I can sabotage those that I don’t think are fair, and carry their schemes in the most harmless way possible. It’s just smart! I won’t order you to obey me or support me, but try to understand… I don’t want to lose you.

For some reason, I had to breathe deeply after saying that. My chest hurted, as if something had knocked my chest forcing all the air to leave my lungs, and my body felt weak, my brain darkening as if I really had no oxygen. That effect only lasted a few seconds, and I felt the truth behind my words ringing in the blank state my mind was left. I heard Lydia sob.

\- I k-know your intentions are good, my Thane – She wasn’t crying, not exactly. Just nervous - But your methods… Didn’t the Greybeards teach you peace?

\- Yes, and I want peace. But they also showed me how the world is complex, how the Dragonborn doesn’t abide by the rules, and their lifestyle is not applicable in the rest of Tamriel. I don’t like what I’m doing as well, Lydia. I wish I knew of better solutions, and if I ever do, I promise that my methods will change. Until then… I’m just following my instincts.

She sighed, calmer. I approached her slowly, offering a hand, palm up. She slowly accepted – I noticed how her fingers were calloused and strong – and I pulled her close to me, never letting go of her hand. When she was close enough that she had to put her hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eyes with fragments of hesitation, betrayal and hope, I noticed how she was taller than me, despite the fact that I was a half-breed of the two tallest races of Tamriel. I managed the shadow of a smile.

\- Will you help me? Not because you’re honorbound – I specified - but because you trust my decision at least as much as I do?

\- I will. You have proven several times already that my judgments tend to be precipitated. And I said before that I wanted to see how you would shape history, so I will stand by you. I can only hope that none of us regrets it - She still couldn’t meet my gaze.

By instinct, my other hand raised to rest on her face, stroking her cheek, and I went on my tiptoes. I placed a soft kiss on her forehead, as light as a butterfly, and my lips only lingered there for a brief moment before I retracted:

\- Thank you…

When we restarted walking, looking for the hideout, I didn’t let go of her hand. It was a bit awkward, for a while, but I personally felt even more awkward after letting go, with how much aware I was of the change. We finally found it, a door in a rock formation on the opposite side of the road leading to the city, and in front of the door, there was a black pool surrounded by nightshades. I’ve never seen so many of those flowers together, and the color of the water they depended on made me wish to never fall into that pool. What actually wasn’t black, however, was the door, despite what the leader of the guild told me. The door displayed the carving of a huge skull on the top half, with a bloody handprint on its forehead like the one on the letter I received, and on the lower half, the profile of a skeleton in a sitting position, knees bent. I exchanged a look with Lydia and signalized that she should stay behind, and this time I could see that she trusted me. I approached the door.

Suddenly, the eyes of the skull were filled with a red light, and a hoarse voice came from the door:

\- What is the music of life?

And to that, the password provided by Astrid fit in a perfect and solemn way.

\- Silence, my brother.

And the door opened.

It allowed me inside a stone chamber, decorated with banners with the handprint of the brotherhood, and some wood furnishings like shelves or a desk - Astrid was reading a scroll while leaning against it. I was sure she was Astrid. Not that I have seen her nose, mouth, or blonde hair before, but the eyes and eyebrows were the same, along with the cat-like stance. She recognized me immediately, rolling the scroll and seating on the top of the surface.

\- Ah, at last! I hope you found the place all right.

I approached her, unsure of what to do and if my armor was even appropriate here as much as it had been in the woods.

\- So what happens now?

\- Well, what happens now is you start your new life in the Dark Brotherhood – She said, and now her soft purred voice didn’t sound like she was simply playing with me like in the cabin, but sincerely content - You're part of the Family, after all. This – She gesticulated towards the area, while I was still thinking about how she referred to the guild as a family - as you can see, is our Sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in all of Skyrim. So get comfortable.

\- I am honored to be a part of your Family, Astrid – I found fitting to say, and honestly, I felt relatively proud of having called the Brotherhood’s attention. And chosen families weren’t exactly everywhere.

\- Our Family, my dearest. Our Family. Together, united as one, the Dark Brotherhood can accomplish anything. Ah, but one last thing. A welcome home present – She raised and went to the shelf, picking something folded, leather tinted in the same black and red of her armor. She unfolded it. My uniform, exactly like hers - The armor of the Dark Brotherhood. May it serve you well in all your... endeavors.

I attempted to laugh, but it just sounded strangled. “Shit”. I didn’t want to appear weak, and yet… Oh, but I still had questions. Maybe I could even compensate for my nervousness by showing interest in a particular kill.

\- Are there any rules I should be aware of? – I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

\- Used to be the Dark Brotherhood was bound by Five Tenets, but we stopped following those years ago. All those rules, all that discipline, and look where the Dark Brotherhood ended up. We're the last of our kind, and we live the way we see fit – She brought me to a corridor from where I could see, in a chamber below, a group of people in the colors of the guild talking in a circle, indicating them with her head - Bottom line: respect your Family. Do that, and everything else will fall into place.

The cave was actually pretty nice, and I could only see the main chamber. The group was at the center of it, between an area with crafting stations, a forge and training dummies and a lake with nightshades at the margin. The lake that occupied a big area was the extension of a waterfall that came from between the rocks above, and judging by the color, it didn’t come from the pitch-black pool outside. On each side of the waterfall, on a pillar of stone, there was a banner of the brotherhood, and on top of those pillars, a bridge. The bridge allowed for appreciating the circular astounding window build on the wall of stone, made of stained glass, and while I couldn’t be sure from this distance, it apparently depicted the same images as the “black door”. There were also stairs that led in the direction of that wall, and since the window was not visible from the outside of the hideout, I imagined there was a room behind it. Not everyone was dressed with the same armor, but all clothes were in the colors of the brotherhood.

I caught Astrid looking at me with a smirk. I concentrated on the questions.

\- What if I get caught killing someone?

\- Try not to? – I shoved her away teasingly, and she kept smiling - But I do realize it's sometimes not that easy. You may want to make a statement, or a contract may require a public killing – I wasn’t even thinking that far, I simply worried about my lack of skills, but in fact her points were valid - Murder is, obviously, a very serious crime, and a very high bounty will be put on your head in the hold where the act was committed. You can run, but you'll still have a price on your head. If a guard attacks, you can attempt to yield by sheathing your weapon. If the guard accepts, you can serve your time in a cell, or pay your bounty. We've all gone through it. We do what we must to survive. But, there is another option. Some members of the Thieves Guild in Riften can get their bounties... erased. For a price. Something to think about.

\- Good thing I’m a part of that guild as well then, despite no one ever telling me about that advantage. But yeah, the guards and Maven Black-Briar are, hum, in friendly terms with the thieves, that’s easy enough to believe they would lower the bounty in exchange of some favors – She didn’t look surprised. Maybe she already knew about all my alliances - Where do the contracts come from?

\- They used to come from the Night Mother. Potential clients would perform the Black Sacrament, and she would hear their prayers. The Night Mother would communicate this to the Listener, who would then dispatch a Speaker to arrange the contract with the client. But that was a long time ago – I blinked - There hasn't been a Listener in years, not since Cyrodiil was overrun in the war with the Thalmor. But people don't know that. So they still perform the ritual... and we eventually hear about it. When someone wants us, we find out.

\- That’s... intelligent. Who is the Night Mother? I’ve read about her, and the Brotherhood, but since no book mentions that she disappeared or whatever happened, I wonder if any author ever got things right.

\- They probably got some things right, after all, rumors are always based on the truth. But yes, that’s an important question. The Unholy Matron, the Shrouded Lady, the Mistress of the Void. She goes by many names – She returned to her desk, placing both palms on top of it, studying the map with a knife sank through - Ages past, Sithis gave a woman five children – If I recalled correctly, Sithis was the deity of the void - She killed them to win his favor, thus becoming the Night Mother. If you believe that sort of thing. Today, she's... well, she's a skeleton. An ancient corpse. But, more importantly, a corpse that's being brought to this Sanctuary by her Keeper.

\- Why is the Night Mother being brought here? – I pressed on, in the confidential tone that she used.

\- A few months ago I received word from the Night Mother's Keeper that he had arrived in Skyrim from Cyrodiil. The Night Mother's crypt, in Bravil, was destroyed. A result of the chaos caused by the war with the Thalmor. That forced a relocation. I don't know where the Keeper has been these past few months – her eyes were unfocused - but I recently received another letter. He's bringing the Night Mother here. Soon. And things around here are sure to get even more interesting…

I was silent, thinking, just like her. Her descriptions made me recall a certain episode during my first days in Whiterun, when I still helped Mary and Geralt with the farms and spent some of my free time exploring the area around. Once, I helped a mad Fool to fix the wheel of a carriage where he was transporting a coffin, and he called the corpse inside “mother”. Could it be him? She said the Keeper was a “he”, and the Night Mother was a corpse, and the carriage could perfectly come from Cyrodill. But I decided to keep that episode to myself. If I was wrong, the only fool here would be me for trying to connect things with no relation, and it’s not like I had any useful information. No, I would try to know these people better before tainting my image.

\- What can you tell me about yourself, Astrid? You clearly know some things about me, so I feel our relationship is a little unbalanced.

She laughed.

\- Alright, I admit, I did my research, Thane. Or should I say… Dragonborn? – I shivered. So she really knew about everything… - But don’t worry, your secrets, if that can even be considered a secret, are safe with us. Now let me see… This Sanctuary has been my entire life since I was a young woman. That's when I first discovered my, shall we call it "aptitude," for elimination. I had an uncle, you see. He made certain... unwanted advances. So I killed him – I didn’t judge her at all. In fact, she did a favor to Tamriel - And liked it. Then I killed again. And liked it even more. And so on. I was recruited by the Dark Brotherhood, and have been here ever since. I met my husband Arnbjorn, rose to leadership. And now here we are.

That wasn’t the introduction I was expecting. I still didn’t know what she liked besides killing, and her husband, I supposed. But this was the kind of thing that I wouldn’t insist on. Before I could ask her if she had any contract for Rorikstead, she added a last piece of advice:

\- Be sure to introduce yourself to your new Family members. They're all very eager to meet you. Oh, and you must be anxious to get to work – She guessed, not far from the truth - I'm arranging a job for you, but in the meantime, go talk to Nazir. He may have some smaller contracts to tide you over.

So he was the one I would pester with my request to kill the abusive father, hum?

I went to the main chamber, and as I approached the circle of people, I could discern them better. There was a Nord, a Dunmer woman, a Redguard, an Argonian, an elder human man and… was that a child? Then, I noticed her red eyes: a Vampire. They barely looked at me, even though I was sure my boots were loud. They simply were more busy laughing and cleaning the tears of their eyes.

\- Ha ha ha ha! Again! Again! Do the part where he tries to buy you some candy – Pleaded the Argonian, holding his belly.

\- Okay, okay. Wait - It was the vampire girl who answered, leaning forward as if she was looking down - Here we go. "Ooh, you are such a pretty little girl. Would the sweetie like a sweetie? How about some chocolate?" – She made a deeper voice, as much as her body allowed, and I realized she was mimicking a man. Then she switched to her normal childish voice and tangled her fingers in front of her chest in an imploring pose - Oh yes, please, kind sir. My mama and papa left me all alone, and I'm so very hungry. I know a shortcut to the candy shop. Through this alley. – Then back to the man’s voice - “Oh ya, very good. Very good. My, it is dark down here. Oh, but you are so beautiful. Such a lovely smile. Your teeth... your teeth! No! Aggghh!!” – She showed her teeth and pretended she was sinking it in a neck, and most of the group burst with laugh again.

\- Oh Babette, but you are so wicked – Said the Dunmer, but I could tell by her proud smile that she was as amazed as I was. The girl… no, the woman used her appearance to pretend she was an innocent child and lure a pedophile to kill him. That was scary and genius at the same time.

\- What about you, Festus? - Asked the Redguard, looking at the elder - How did that last contract turn out?

\- Oh, yes, please, old man. Regale us with your tales of wizardry... – The sarcasm in the white-haired Nord’s voice was obvious. Nords and magic, definitely a good relationship. 

\- Ah, the young and stupid… - Festus sighed - Always mocking the experienced and brilliant. My contract went very well, I'll have you know. Tried a new spell. Little something I've been working on in my spare time. Came "this" close to turning that priest inside out – He showed a small distance between his thumb and his index finger, and I was surprised at how his hands didn’t shake despite the age - Damned messy.

\- And what of your latest, Arnbjorn? – The Dunmer turned to the Nord. So he was Astrid’s husband, huh? - Something about a Khajiit? Merchant was it?

\- Oh, a big doggy chasing a little kitty! How adorable! – Babette covered her mouth and made a cute face, teasing. I didn't understand why she called the Nord “dog”, but everyone laughed again.

\- Ha ha ha ha!

\- I am not adorable, it was not funny, and he wasn't a merchant – Arnbjorn’s answer was short and dry, arms crossed - He was a Khajiit monk, a master of the Whispering Fang style. But now he's dead... and I have a new loincloth.

\- Ha ha ha ha!

Even I smiled. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to lift the mood again, or if he simply lacked humor and didn’t realize how what he said was funny. I approached the circle, but by that time, the Dunmer, the vampire and the elder were already departing. Arnbjorn was the first to pay me attention. Despite me being part of the family, his face wasn’t exactly friendly, but maybe that was just a part of his personality…

\- Well, well, it's raw meat – He stated - Oh, my beautiful wife has told me all about you. And probably she told you about me as well, Arnbjorn.

\- She told me you’re her husband. But not much more, if you’re willing to share – I suggested.

\- Look. If you're trying to get to know me, don't – Huh, rude - I don't like you, and I never will. It's nothing personal. But... My wife trusts you, and I trust her judgment. So you can't be all bad. Here's all you need to know: I'm a werewolf. I like killing things. I love Astrid. I hate annoying people. And the color blue gives me a headache.

I actually laughed at that, and still couldn’t tell if he was joking, but the fact was that he managed to introduce himself better than Astrid, in his grumpy way. Him being a werewolf also explained why the vampire called him a dog, and I wondered if their mutations caused any kind of disgust or rivalry between them. I heard someone snort behind me. The Redguard.

\- So you're the newest member of our dwindling, dysfunctional little Family – He remarked - I've heard quite a bit about you as well. I’m Nazir.

\- It's a pleasure to meet you – I said, and again my attempt at being kind was cut short.

\- Save the niceties for now. I have no intention of getting invested in someone who may be dead tomorrow. If you're still breathing in a few weeks, I'm sure we'll be the best of friends.

\- Of course, that makes sense, but I’m sure you know I’m the Dragonborn.

\- So? That doesn’t make you god-like. Someone can still manage to put a dagger in your back, and with power comes danger. And if people knew that the Dragonborn was a member of the Brotherhood, more reason to try to stop you before you got too powerful.

\- Alright… Still, do you mind telling me something about yourself?

\- Ah, well, I'm Redguard, as I'm sure you've noticed – His “I’m sure” sounded like a mockery of what I told him before - Though not like most of my kind you'll find in Skyrim, that's for damned sure. I am a child of Hammerfell, born of the sands of the mighty Alik'r. In that great desert, blood is a shade of crimson I can scarce describe. My past is long and storied, and not altogether proud. But the Dark Brotherhood saved me from myself. And I have never looked back.

\- I’m getting the impression the guild saved a lot of people. But well, since you don’t want to talk about personal things and Arnbjorn doesn’t look like he wants to socialize either – The Nord just looked away from me - Astrid said you'd have some work for me.

\- Did she, now? Well, as it turns out, there are a few lingering contracts we haven't had the chance to complete just yet. And more, dribbling in from time to time. These aren't particularly glamorous assassinations, I'll be honest. Don't pay much, either. But they'll keep you busy – He shrugged - I'll assign them to you as they become available, to be completed at your leisure. There's no real time limit, the targets aren't going anywhere. You can turn each one in as it's completed, or wait and turn in the whole group when all the targets have been eliminated. Whichever works for you – He took a journal from his pocket.

\- Do you have any for Rorikstead? – I asked, trying to not raise my hopes too high.

\- Hum, someone interests you, is it? Not in the loving sense, of course, unless you are killing for love.

\- Don’t we have a say in the contracts we want to carry?

\- Oh, you do, in fact, most of us have preferences. Babette, as you probably saw, is particularly good at attracting creeps, so we usually give her adult males. The location of the target may also be important. And… - His finger stopped at the middle of a page – Rorikstead, here we have it. So, which one of the Daedra worshipers do you want to kill?

\- They are Daedra worshippers? That explains a lot.

\- Noticed the books and the soul gems, did you? Well, but I won’t ask again, who do you want as a target? Do you even know the name? – He insisted.

\- Lemkil, I think. He is the father of the only children of the village, and beats one of them.

\- Oh, you’re with luck, someone also wants him dead! You can have the contract – He announced lively.

I accepted it.

Veeraza, the Argonian, told me he was once a Shadowscale, an assassin in service to the King of Black Marsh. Trained by the Dark Brotherhood since the day of his hatching, implied that he served the King as an assassin. Now, his order was extinct, but he was glad to have been given purpose again by Astrid and assured me I made the right choice in joining the brotherhood.

The elder, the vampire and the Dunmer were in a room with an enchanting lab and a huge Frostbite spider, but the beast didn’t attack, and I was afraid that attacking it would be considered an attack on the family.

Festus was a bit arrogant – “I like to say I was born with a wand in my hand. Well, not literally - you can see how painful that would have been for mother. But I was a prodigy!” – but told me to consider him the cranky old uncle nobody talks to, when he was actually really nice. His farewell was particularly funny: “Goodbye, kill lots of people, Hail Sithis, and all that.”

The Dunmer, Gabriella, made a reasonable presentation, but I didn’t feel a great connection with her. She described herself as a woman of refined yet simple tastes, who enjoyed moonlit nights, taking long walks on the beach, knitting and unicorns. “In fact, I once took a seaside stroll, on a moonlit night, and discovered a unicorn... which I proceeded to stab in the throat with a crochet needle.”

Finally, the vampire woman with a child's body. She was playing with the spider when I went to talk to her:

\- There you are! – She said, and it felt strange to be addressed like that by someone my brain registered as a child. Was that what other people felt when I told them I wasn’t a woman? - Astrid's told me all about you. Heard she pulled the old' "Choose your victim" gag with you. Ah, I love that one... – She said in a dreamy voice - I'm Babette, and that’s Lis, my pet spider. Can't wait to hear all about the next person you murder.

\- It's nice to meet you, Babette. Glad it was entertaining – She gave me a slice of raw meat and showed me how to feed Lis, and I decided to use the opportunity. It’s was strange, and pushed me a little more in the path to not harm other animals or creatures if I could – Hello, Lis. Do you guys even know my name?

\- We didn’t, in the beginning, but the name of the Thane of Whiterun, especially one as controversial as yours, is easy to obtain.

\- Do you always recruit your family members like this?

\- Oh please, you're going to love it here. We have a lot of fun, and we look out for each other. Just like any family. It’s not like any of us was innocent when the brotherhood took us in. And families don’t have to be perfect, anyway.

\- I can agree with that. Hope you don’t mind if I think you remind me of my daughters then – I teased, and she put her tongue out, then starting an act:

\- I'm just a little girl! The Dark Brotherhood killed my mama and papa, and then they took me captive! – She started shaking my sleeve as if in a panic - Please, please help me! – Then she smirked - Rather convincing, don't you think? In truth, I'm no more a little girl than you are. I was once, of course. Three hundred years ago. Vampirism tends to keep one remarkably... fresh.

\- You probably witnessed a lot of history… You should have a lot of memories, the complete opposite of myself.

\- What do you mean? – She was petting the spider.

\- I don’t have memories previous to Helgen, when it was attacked – I extended a hand to the spider. She let me pet her. Oh, fluffy.

\- Strange. Well, mine are quite blurry anyway. And the first ones, I experienced as a child would, just with the additional fear of realizing I wasn’t growing up – That made sense - Took me a while to realize the advantages of my unchanging body, and I always covered myself with a cloak when I had to do things where people would expect an adult. Until a vampire hunter who was following me thought he had followed the wrong target upon realizing I looked like a child… and he only noticed my red eyes too late.

I grimaced.

We talked for a bit longer, and I understood more about her perspective. Somehow, the conversation even brushed relationships and how romance was difficult for her – she didn’t want to be seen as a child, but she also didn’t want to be a legal doll for a pedo – and yet she contented herself with the relationships she kept with the people in here. Including… Astrid. In a sense. Apparently, Astrid was what Babette called polyamorous, and Arnbjorn was perfectly aware and fine with that. The Nord was her primary partner, and the vampire didn’t consider what she had with Astrid romance, exactly, but she liked how people here mostly only saw themselves as family. The comments made by Delvin – who Babette met when he was from this guild – also made more sense now. He felt betrayed when Astrid married, and while most people speculated that they were still involved, he wanted a more rigid kind of commitment. Babette was probably the nicest person here, despite her attraction for gloomy flowers, danger and exploiting people, and also the first woman I saw talking out loud about her attraction for other women. This kind of thing tended to exist only under wraps… The idea of a more open relationship and sharing a partner also made complete sense on my mind, even though I wasn’t sure if I liked the concept of primary partners…

I didn’t have the heart to keep Lydia waiting outside for much longer. So I said my goodbyes, went outside, and after a brief explanation where I felt unsure where things stood between us, decided we should try to make it to Falkreath before the night settled.

On our way to the city, I felt her fingertips brush against mine.


	13. Death and Daedra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t go into many details to describe Falkreath, but imagine the city with the bigger cemetery, Jarl’s longhouse/keep, walls and additional decoration/stores/details of these mods: https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/19709 https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/61139/? https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/7509/?

We reached the gates of Falkreath not long after the sunset, and were approached by the guards, who asked us if we saw a dog on the road. Apparently, the blacksmith had recently adopted a stray dog but now he lost the pet. On our way to the inn, the Dead Man’s Drink, I tried to check if the forge was still open, but of course at this hour he was already inside, so we decided to try again tomorrow and stop for the day. For dinner, the innkeeper suggested the traditional dish of the Hold, the Falkreath Meat Loaf, made with game, greens, and cheese, all regional. I asked for two, one for me and another for Lydia, and to drink, the Rosy Mead, made with roses and Metheglin, another classic Falkreath cocktail mixed with Nord mead.

I praised the dish and noticed a small smile resting on Lydia’s lips.

\- What is it? – I inquired, curious about her thoughts.

\- Well… You sometimes confuse me, my Thane. You make decisions that I sometimes doubt, and your sense of ethic and honor doesn’t always align with mine, but you’re kind to most people and you seem to be always thinking about the general good. I wonder if that’s the result of being a half-breed – She was barely eating, playing with her food, and her manners were impeccable.

\- I… doubt my blood is related. Besides the fact that I don’t know if there’s dragon blood in the formula – I joked and purposefully tore a bit of the loaf with my teeth. When she noticed how I was eating despite the fact that we were in public, she abandoned the manners and gripped the food with her own hands, filling her mouth with bites and barely swallowing them before the next. I couldn’t contain a laugh.

\- Why are you laughing? – Wondered Lydia, wiping the fat off her mouth with the back of her hand.

\- I was remembering, err, that I petted a Frostbite Spider today – Well, it wasn’t a lie.

\- What, when? I should have protected you! – I had to admit, it was sweet to know she still wanted to protect me despite me being the Dragonborn… And I loved when she forgot to say my title.

\- It was… - I leaned forward, and she landed me her ear. I whispered – in the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. There was a vampire there who kept one as a pet – I returned to my place.

She looked puzzled first, then grave.

\- I understand if you can’t tell me, my Thane, but how are the members of that guild? How do you feel about fraternalizing with a… vampire?

Oh.

\- Well… I don’t like how some vampires abuse their power, hypnotize people, feed on their blood without consent until they grow weak and transform other people into vampires. But the fact that they are vampires in itself doesn’t bother me – I explained - And I actually liked to talk with her, she was one of the members I liked the most. It was also fun because she looked like a child, but she’s really old.

\- That’s… odd. And what about the other members?

\- They were actually relatively normal, or what we would consider normal – I shrugged – Their humor is… dark. But you know, I was happy to see many of them share the same kind of motivations as me. The vampire I mentioned, Babette, is particularly good at getting rid of creeps. So I don’t think they cause such big damage. I’m starting to doubt if they deserve the reputation they have…

Lydia insisted on guarding my bedroom and sleeping on the floor, just in front of the door. I was starting to realize her obsession with being close to doors, sometimes even in the way…

In the next day, I wanted to explore the city and did so without waking her up – the boots I received from the guild were quite useful to muffle my steps. I visited the Grave Concoctions shop, the stores of the Grey Pine Goods, the Corpselight Farm, and finally the Hall of the Dead. It took me longer to realize than it should, but everything was named according to a pun about death, and when I asked around about the reason, people told me it was because of the huge cemetery of the city, bigger than the city itself. It was true: Close to the Hall of the Dead, what I mistook for rocks in the depths of the woods were actually tombs, and my eyes couldn’t discern where they ended. According to what the priests told me, the graveyard of Falkreath contained many famous Nords who requested to be buried next to the other honored dead of past battles, and Falkreath was indeed a place of many battles. The cemetery was ancient, older than the town. It was only fitting that the people living alongside the dead named their buildings in recognizance of such.

The priests were showing me around, mistaking me for a Nord interested in learning about my most famous relatives, and I didn’t want to make things awkward or disappoint them. But when we passed a couple and I saw a man covering his eyes to avoid crying, the priest Runil excused himself to offer support for those people. I overheard his declarations:

\- The god Arkay was once like us, bound to winding mortality – Like every priest that worked in a Hall of the Dead, Runil served Arkay - But he willingly gave up his existence that we might better understand the vagaries of life and death. It is though the ebb and flow of this cosmic tide that we find renewal – His voice was stable and calming - and, in the end, peace. May the spirit of Lavinia and all those who have left this world and its suffering know the beloved serenity of Aetherius… and may we one day rejoin them in eternity.

The couple bowed their heads, taking the wisdom of the priest in. But the woman was still crying, and Runil left with her. The other priest was assisting new visitants, so I assumed my tour had reached an end. Only the man was still near the tomb, looking at it.

“Oh, he is a farmer. I have potatoes to sell… But this is probably not the right time to mention that” – I realized, ashamed of myself – “he’s in mourning.” Imagining the figure my retarded self wanted to do almost made me laugh, which would be even more inappropriate.

I approached the man, and gave him time to be able to confront my eyes with his emotions under control.

\- Who died? – I asked, softly. No point in pretending I didn't know.

\- Our daughter – He exhaled, slowly. My heart contracted - Our little girl. She hadn’t seen her tenth winter.

\- How did she die? – I tried to ask softly. I didn’t want to cause him pain by remembering, and probably my efforts were futile, but if I could do something to help, I would.

\- Sinding did this. Came through as a laborer, and seemed like a decent man. He is stewing in the pit while we figure out what to do, if you’ve got the stomach to look at him – He snapped that last sentence quickly, as if he couldn’t control the despise he felt, and I completely understood, but the sorrow overrode the hate again - What could drive a man to do something like this? She was… he ripped her apart. Like a sabre cat tears a deeer. We barely found enough of her to bury – I was glad I haven’t eaten anything yet - I just don’t understand what kind of man does that…

I gave him my condolences, and went to wake up Lydia. I wanted her at my side when I confronted the killer.

She was already awake and ready to leave, and I could see that she was furious – with me, for escaping her, and with herself, for not noticing when I slipped. But now I came as Thane and she understood I had orders. I told about what I found and told her I wanted to confront Sinding, to understand what drove the man and do something about the situation. I wanted to find out if he was a part of any bandit group or cult that could threaten other people, and if I could offer any kind of revenge or consolation to the parents of the girl, I would. If there was something more to the story… I wanted to find out about that as well. It was like the farmer said: What made a decent man not only kill an innocent young girl, but rip her so violently?

The guards were fine with us entering the barracks and the prison, as long as we didn’t try to free any prisoners. Sinding was in the last cell, the farthest from the doors, and was coiled against a corner, his face sank in his crossed arms. He took a while to realize he had visitors, giving me time to analyze his appearance. He was only dressed with some ragged pants, and didn’t look like a bandit: barely had scars. He was a Nord with blonde hair, not particularly muscular, relatively dirty and thin, possibly from hunger. From what I understood, the death of the girl was recent, so I doubted he had simply been starved here in the prison. No, he was probably starving before even entering Falkreath…

He finally glanced at us from behind his arms:

\- Come to gawk at the monster?

A shiver run down my spine. He may not have the body of a killer, but his eyes… His eyes looked like they could pierce my soul. I approached the bars, with Lydia behind me, weapons half-unsheated.

\- I hear you attacked a little girl – I proclaimed.

\- Believe me, it wasn't anything I ever intended to do – His voice was weak, contrasting with the intensity of his gaze, and I started to wonder if his eyes only seemed like that because he was despaired - I just... lost control. I tried to tell them, but none of them believe me. It's all on account of this blasted ring – He whispered the last sentence to himself, but the prison walls made the sound echo.

\- What ring? – I pressed.

\- This – He threw it out of his cell, and I had to jump back to avoid touching it. I didn’t know what it did just yet - That’s the Ring of Hircine. I was told it could let me control my transformations. Perhaps it used to, but I'll never know. Hircine didn't care for my taking it, and threw a curse on it – I avoided the urge of interrupting him with questions - I put it on... and the changes just came to me. I could never guess when. It would be at the worst times. Like...

“Like with the little girl”, I finished in my head.

\- What kind of transformations?

\- I don't suppose there's a point in keeping the secret if I'm going to die in here anyway – He was fully turned to us now, his shoulders dropped, his tone dispirited, as if he already accepted everything fate would throw at him - I'm sure you've heard of men who shift to beasts under the influence of the moons. I am one of them. A werewolf – Yes. I’ve heard of it… - It's my secret, and my shame. That's why I wanted the ring... it was said to give men like me control. Now I may look like a man, but I still feel the animal inside of me, as strong as ever. I've been looking for a way to appease Hircine – He kept talking, and I didn’t dare to interrupt his useful babbling, but that name kept ringing a bell in my head - There is a certain beast in these lands. Large, majestic. It's said that Hircine will commune with whoever slays it. I tracked it into these woods, but then had my... accident with the child. I want to beg his forgiveness and give him back the ring. But while I'm stuck in here, the beast wanders free.

\- By Hircine, you mean the Daedric Lord of the Hunt? – I really had to know. Lydia gasped behind me.

\- Yes. He revels in the chase, and also gave the “gift” of lycanthropy to mortals. A powerful force, not to be crossed. As I learned too late.

\- Why did this ring make you attack the girl? Why didn’t you take it out?

\- I had just come into Falkreath. They needed some help working the mill, and I thought that would be something safe. Something I could do. When I saw the little girl, I was just... I could feel it coming on. I could taste the... I needed to hunt. But this pitiful, limited body wasn't meant for hunting. Slow. No claws – Every sentence came between a loud breath, almost like panting - Weak, mashing teeth for chewing cud. I held in my rage as long as I could, but I couldn’t think right at the time. It boiled inside of me. She looked so fragile. Helpless prey. And then... I feel terrible about what happened. About what I did – He was confronting his own actions, I could see it in his introspective expression - It would probably be best for everyone if I just went away.

I sighed. I was really testing the limits of Lydia’s loyalty.

\- I'll take the ring to Hircine – I offered.

I heard Lydia cough behind me and the prisoner turned suddenly in our direction, wide-eyed, a hand on the ground.

\- You would do this for me? – His arm was trembling - Take it. I don't want anything to do with that wretched thing anymore. Seek out the beast, he wanders these woods. Bring him down and... well, the Lord of the Hunt should smile on you. I wish you luck, and I should try to leave here while I still have my skin. Should our paths cross again – he paused, tracing my face with his eyes - I will remember your kindness. Farewell.

I nodded, enveloped the ring in fabric and turned to leave.

I finally cornered the blacksmith and asked him about the dog he lost, right before hitting the road. Me and Lydia were traveling at west of the town, in the direction of the mountains where we thought the mighty beast could roam, when, after turning in a fork, we found a long-haired dog whose color and size matched perfectly the description given by Lod. And instead of running, the dog approached us.

\- He is so well trained – Observed Lydia – I wonder how a dog like him would run away or get lost.

\- You are exactly what I was looking for – Said a comical masculine voice when I was going to pet the dog, startling me. I looked in all directions in search of the owner of that voice. “An invisible person?” Friend of foe? Lydia hit her sword against the shield, in an attempt to provoke a potential enemy to come forward – I’m right in front of you – Insisted the voice, and this time, I understood: It came from the dog.

\- Did you just talk? – I was unable to contain the high-pitched tone at end of my question.

\- Skyrim is now host to giant, flying lizards and two-legged cat-men, and you're surprised by me? – I imagined the dog rolling his eyes. Good point indeed - Yeah, I just talked. And am continuing to do so. You see, my name is Barbas. And I have a problem I think you can help sort out.

\- Well, Barbas… - I started to answer, exchanging a look with Lydia to make it clear the dog was not to be attacked - I've got things to do.

\- I know, I know... Wars to fight, dragons to confront, guild business to conduct – He put his tongue out, and I suspected the accuracy of his answer was because he knew more about adventurers like me than he was letting on – But you see, my master and I had a bit of a falling out. We got into an argument and it got rather... heated. He's kicked me out until I can find someone who can settle our disagreement. That's where you come in.

\- Sounds easy enough. I assume your master is not Lod, so, where would I find your master?

\- In Haemar's Shame, here in Falkreath, where a cult of vampires worship him. Now, I forgot to mention that my master is Clavicus Vile, the Daedric Prince of wishes – Oh, no… - Since he banished me, Vile's been rather weak and he can't manifest very far from one of his shrines. We should be able to talk to him there. If this works out, I'll make sure you're rewarded. Just don't trust any offer he makes you... okay?

\- I... okay, of course – I gulped - I don't want to strike a bargain with a Daedra in the first place. The thing is, I’m already dealing with other Daedra matters right now and I don’t even have much experience in dealing, worshiping or simply understanding the princes, so… could you help me lift a curse of Hircine first? You seem to be better acquainted with Daedra than me.

\- Oh, that I am. After all, I’m a Daedra best friend. I will help you. Are you looking for the White Stag?

\- The White Stag? – Asked Lydia, still suspicious of the dog but finally understanding that just talking to him wouldn’t curse her. I suppose I should be grateful that she gave me a chance to talk before attacking.

\- Well, if you want to appease Hircine, killing the majestic White Stag is the feat most hunters usually go by. I could take you to the beast, if you want. We are already close.

\- You’re being a great help, Barbas! – I exclaimed – Take us there.

\- So we really will travel with a talking dog and deal with two Deadric Princes… – Lydia exhaled, but I decided to present her with my most disarming smile, inspired on those charming faces Marcuriio was always giving to people. She chuckled – You lead, I’ll follow.

As the talking dog guided us, the terrain became strangely familiar, and I realized I was close to Helgen. Finally, we found a huge stag halfway up the mountains, its coat the color of the snow, the horns outlined by the light reflected in the ice. It was really a majestic beast, and it hurt me to bring it down. But I had to do it. I slowly took out my bow.

The stag saw us.

\- Shit! – I said as I jumped out of my hideout, trying to follow the beast.

It was quick and intelligent, dodging and turning when I least expected, and faster than my furious housecarl. If there wasn’t three of us to corral the beast, I wouldn’t be surprised to run out of arrows before I could even hit it. But we finally brought the stag down.

“What now?”

\- Maybe we should try to skin it to make an offering – Suggested Lydia as if she just read my thoughts, shifting her weight impatiently.

\- That won’t be necessary – Intercepted Barbas.

I follow his gaze. Something was shining next to him, like a veil of air and ice, blinking with deep blue colors. It took the form of the stag we just killed, a ghost of its previous majesty.

\- Hello, Hircine – Barked the dog. I gasped.

\- You are Hircine? – I confronted the ghost.

\- I am the spirit of the hunt – The voice seemed to come from all directions, a deep voice whose echo was only one of its properties, powerful and self-assured - just one glimpse of the glorious stalker that your kind calls Hircine.

\- Well, it’s more than enough for me – I retorted, letting the implications float on the air while I retrieve the ring from my purse and presented it to the Prince - What would you ask of me to remove the curse from this ring? – I knew the Daedra wouldn’t help for free, that much I’ve read.

\- Your fealty is precious to me – The tone remained unchanged, making me wonder if the satisfaction was sincere or if the prince was toying with me - I will make good use of it. The one who stole my ring has fled to what he thinks is his sanctuary, the Bloated Man’s Grotto, as mortals call it. Just as a bear climbs a tree to escape the hunt, but only ends up trapping himself – The ghost of the stag looked at me, and I prepared for the request - Seek out this rogue shifter. Tear the skin from his body, and make it an offering to me.

“No way”.

\- What he did was wrong, but an accident. I won’t kill him – I tried to expose my wish calmly, in fear of giving the Daedra more information that could be used against me - And I won’t obey you in exchange for anything, especially when I want to break the curse of this ring to help him. I have no reason to serve you otherwise.

\- There is no retribution in the hunt. It is not vengeance I seek, but the blood course of a living hunt – Countered the voice, equally as calm, and I believed it - There are others who would gladly accept my favor. They will hunt him while you delay. Your choice – My mind was blank.

\- Can’t you offer anything to help the mortal decide? – Suggested Barbas.

\- I can. Wear the ring – Commanded the Prince.

\- Don’t do it, my Thane – Implored Lydia.

\- I… I can’t stop now, Lydia – I shrugged, dismissing my fears, still doing my best to look collected. In truth, I didn’t know how to proceed. I didn’t know how to break the curse and keeping Sinding alive at the same time, and knowing he was being hunted didn’t help. So I would take what I could. I put the ring on.

The pain made me scream.

Or rather, I tried to, but I roared instead. I felt my mouth open in a snarl, curled over myself, felt all my bones breaking and rearranging themselves, my spine contorting in a way that almost made me lose conscience. The world lost its colors, but I could smell the blood of my kill and Lydia’s screams sounded louder, as if my senses were changing. When the pain finally receded, I expected to feel tears on my cheeks, but I didn’t, for the tears were lost between the fur. My fur.

\- This way – Continued Hircine, as if nothing had happened – You can experience a fragment of the power that could be yours, and under your control, if you served me and kept the ring.

“No.” My heart started beating so fast that I was almost afraid it would burst out of my chest, if my chest wasn’t much larger now, almost masculine-looking. I had fur over my entire body, claws, and I didn’t even want to look at my face. Lydia’s expression was already too much to bear. She stopped attacking the ghost when it vanished and was looking at me, with a glimpse of fear and determination in her eyes, but she didn’t attack me. “Don’t do anything stupid. Think” – I ordered myself, not moving a muscle. I did my best to avoid trying to speak – I would probably just roar, and instead of getting a message across, I would make her panic. I tried to control this body and sit. Nudged my things – the ripped Ancient Nord Armor, and my satchel and bag that remained almost intact – toward her. I kept looking at my housecarl, my friend, the entire time. I approached, slowly, and waited for her reactions.

\- Come on, she won’t attack you, she’s still your friend. I don’t have all day – Complained the dog.

\- They – Corrected Lydia, and I couldn’t resist the urge of showing my teeth and making a strange sound from the back of my throat, what I would depict as a dog laughing, despite looking like a mix between a cough, a snarl and a whine. She still had her sword prepared, but this time, she extended a hand in my direction. I bowed my head. She petted it. – Haha – She laughed softly, and I tried my best to convey a confused look - Now you really need a shave.

Lydia and the dog were the ones talking and making decisions. First, Lydia tried to remove my ring. She couldn’t. She told me to remain calm and just wait to see if the effect would wear off, otherwise, we just have to obey the Daedra to break the curse. It wasn’t a particularly positive solution, and was against what I wanted to do, but was better than nothing. Since we had to wait, Barbas stepped in. Despite this “offer” being Barbas’f fault, we were still indebted to the dog and Lydia decided – and I mentally agreed – that visiting his master was a safer way to pass the time than risking to find people on the road.

The dog took us through Helgen. The devastation that a single dragon was able to cause was almost ridicule. No house remained intact, and most were burned to the ground. I could almost swear I still smelled the fire and the corpses. I didn’t want to delay there…

Barbas lead us to a cave, Haemar's Shame, where we had to fight vampires and their thralls, a cult not only furious for having been interrupted, but disgusted by my form. We found a few enchanted items, but since Lydia was already carrying my things along with her own – she was literally carrying my burdens - she had to select only a part of the treasure. The Shrine of Clavicus Vile was located deeper into the cave, guarded by four vampires, and I felt my claws tore their bodies apart. The power of this body was monstrous and I didn’t want anything to do with it.

The Shrine… was actually a statue. It depicted a long-haired man dressed in a tunic, looking at the ugly mask he raised in his hand with a psychopathic smile.

Barbas started barking at the statue.

\- What is it, stupid mutt? You can’t stay away when I vanish you? – Said a comical voice, coming from nowhere in specific, just like with the other Daedra.

\- My new friend here as a request, but they can’t talk in this form – Explained the dog.

\- By all means, let's hear it! – I whined as something enveloped my body and seemingly broke it again all at once. I fell on my knees, trembling, naked, and looked at the Shrine gaping and teary-eyed - It's the least I could do, since you already helped me grant one final wish for my last worshippers... They were suffering from vampirism, and begged me for a cure. Then you came in and ended their misery! I couldn't have planned it better myself – He dragged the last word, and I felt my body shake violently. So this was the power and malice of the Daedra…? - So, what's your heart's desire? What kind of deal can we strike?

I wanted to cry and scream at the same time. “No, don’t look weak”. I raised my chin, and let the tears fall freely, treating them with the indifference I should. Lydia stood behind my body, her presence like a protective shadow, and that comforted me. The ring had fallen on the floor, detached from my finger.

\- I'm just here to reunite you with Barbas – I simply said. If I thought before about asking for an end to the civil war, now I was sure it would be a bad idea...

\- Ugh. That insufferable pup? Forget it. Request denied. No deal – He refused like a child doing a tantrum, and that almost shattered my hope - I'm glad to be rid of him. Even if it does mean I'm stuck in this pitiful shrine, in the back end of... nowhere – Oh? - Well... perhaps there is a way he could earn his place back at my side. Maybe. But no promises.

\- What do you want? – I asked quickly, before he could change his mind.

\- There's an axe. An incredibly powerful axe. An axe powerful enough for me to have quite a bit of fun, indeed – Rambled the Prince - If you bring it to me, I'll grant you my boon. No strings attached. No messy surprises. At least, not for you. As I recall, it's resting in Rimerock Burrow. Barbas can lead you to it. The little mutt might even earn his place back at my side.

It was… promising. If the surprises were for Barbas, at this point I couldn’t care less. Without saying anything, I got on my feet and looted a vampire for its dark robe and armor – it suited my mood…

\- Are you okay, my Thane? – Lydia touched me, and I shivered – Talos?

\- I will be – I didn’t want to confront her worry. Finally, I picked the ring, taking care to keep it away from my fingers – So, Barbas, what's the story behind the Rueful Axe? – I forced myself to talk, but I sounded exhausted even to my ears.

\- One of Clavicus's little jests – He chatted happily - A wizard named Sebastian Lort had a daughter who worshipped Hircine. When the daughter became a werewolf, it drove Sebastian over the edge. He couldn't stand to see his little girl take on such a bestial form. The wizard wished for the ability to end his daughter's curse – We were already on our way to the exit - Clavicus gave him an axe.

I decided it was time to go find Sinding and save him. And I already had a plan to retaliate what Hircine did to me…

Entering the Bloated Man’s Grotto was like entering a different dimension.

We had just gotten inside a cave, and yet we could see the sky. A red sky… There was a huge moon at the top, rocks hard to climb, trees – mostly fallen – strange butterflies, and I could ear a waterfall not far from the entrance. We followed the path and found a camping site with several Khajit sleeping.

No.

Dead.

I run to them to check if any was still breathing while Lydia stood protectively next to me. One was still alive, a dark-furred Khajit leaning against his backpack with a hand pressed over the stomach, trying to prevent the bleeding.

\- Has the Bloodmoon called you, fellow Hunter? – He whispered.

\- What happened here? –I asked, fumbling with my satchel to take out a healing potion.

\- The prey is strong. Stronger than the hunters. But more will come – His eyes glowed for a second of hope, and he shook his head when I tried to give him the potion - Bring him down, for the glories of Lord Hircine.

Then his body went limp and life left his cat eyes.

They were killed by Sinding, but they tried to hunt him first. With no defined purpose, we just wandered through the walkways until we reached a clearing, and heard a howling. Then, a huge werewolf, much bigger than I was when transformed, perched on a rock outcropping and stared at us. “Sinding. Oh, please recognize us…”

\- ...You! – Lydia let out a sigh of relief at his recognition - Why? I never thought I would see you again.

\- And I never thought you would be able to escape that prison, despite my quest to break the curse of your ring. Nonetheless, I've been told by Hircine to kill you.

\- I would deserve it, wouldn't I? I can't stop you if that's what you want to do – Despite being here, he still sounded resigned to his fate - Hircine is too powerful. But if you spare me, I can be a powerful ally to you. And I would promise to never return to civilized life. I know now that I can't live among people…

\- I will spare your life. I have no wish to serve a Daedra Prince, and I think you deserve another opportunity.

\- Thank the gods. Now let's deal with these other hunters. We hunt together!

\- No! – I saw him draw back his mouth in the start of a snarl but he stopped. He really had difficulty controlling his transformation. I had to explain my plans quickly – I don’t want to kill any more than necessary. Hircine cursed your ring even more strongly, and now I can transform into a werewolf if I wear it. I will transform while you hide, to make the hunters think I’m you, and run out of this cave. While they follow me, my housecarl can pretend to be their ally to bring me down and I will play dead. That way, they will think you are dead and leave you alone – I faced all of them. Lydia showed surprise but quickly accepted my instructions and nodded, with a fierce expression.

\- That sounds… coward. – Revealed Sinding reluctantly.

\- That sounds smart! – I disagreed, and found myself almost showing my teeth. “Let’s hope the transformations don’t leave any permanent effect…”

\- More hunters are coming! – Alerted Barbas, and I trusted his senses. I faced Sinding.

\- Alright… - He finally ceded, and jumped behind the rock, hiding.

I took the ring out, and nodded to Lydia. I put it on and braced myself for the pain.

It didn’t hurt so much this time, or maybe I was simply more used to the pain. I could have taken my clothes out to avoid seeing them torn, but if I really wanted vampire clothing, I could just pick more near the Shrine of Clavicus Vile. I landed on all fours and projected this body forward, in the direction of the Hunters of Hircine. The Hunters were equipped with hide, studded and fur armors, and some looked more experienced than others. I ran through them, who barely had time to dodge, and only one was able to attack me, the slash barely slowing me down when I had so much fur. Lydia followed, screaming, and I was glad she was so fast – I didn’t know what to do if she couldn’t get ahead of the other hunters. Barbas was trying to keep up.

When I got out of the cave, I realized how suffocating had been the environment inside. Now, the fresh air of the early night encouraged me to test the limits of this form. I pushed myself, felt the power of the legs, how my muzzle and figure was fit to cut through the air and provide me agility. I could hear everyone following me, determine how many they were by smell. It was time to mislead them.

I turned and took them through a spot Lydia and me had seen before, with bandits. I knew she would recognize the path I took and avoid the bunch, but the hunters would probably clash with them and that would create more distance between us. It worked, and Lydia was still close to me, panting. We were now in a forest, and maybe it was a good time to execute the rest of the plan.

My nose hitched. I smelled two hunters.

A man came out of the woods, his sword lodging in my thigh.

I roared. I roared to the skies with all of my frustration at being a toy for the Daedra, all of the pain I endured to try to do what’s right, all of the humiliation, all the fear I felt for my supposed Dragonborn powers being insignificant against deities, all the rage. I could feel my blood boiling.

I clawed the chest and face of the man with no mercy and Lydia joined me in killing him. Without checking if he was finished, I got to my other prey – a female – and sank my teeth on that fragile neck. I closed my mouth. The taste of blood filled my mouth.

\- My Thane?... – Asked Lydia hesitantly, and I knew why. I wasn’t proud of my actions, but I didn’t regret them either. I said I would only save those I could…

I made an effort to release the body and distanced myself from it. I nodded to Lydia. It was time.

I laid on the floor in a strange position, back to the sky, my eyes closed and mouth open. I let Lydia break her sword and position the part with the grip between my body and arm, looking like it was halfway inside me. Finally, she used the blood of my thigh that was really starting to throb and helped making it look like blood was coming from where the sword would have pierced the body. She worked quickly, and finished before the other hunters found us. From the smell, they were sweaty and hurt.

\- Good job, sister – Praised one of the hunters – Hircine will approve of the hunt.

\- Thank you – Lydia seemed properly tired. Well, maybe she was, given that she tried to accompany my speed. I heard sounds close to the dead bodies – I’m sorry for your comrades.

\- It’s all right – Said another voice – This is part of the hunt. We will honor them tonight, and celebrate the victory against that beast. You are welcome to join us in Falkreath. Now we will leave you to claim your prey.

They left right after, and I heard bodies being dragged. We had to wait until it was safe to break the façade, but even then Lydia took care of my body, spreading an ointment in my tight and other minor wounds. Barbas kept talking all the time. Finally, we believed it was wise to go back.

Before I could get back on my feet, I felt my body contorting, again, despite the fact I was still wearing the ring. I was myself when Hircine’s ghost reappeared.

\- I made my decision and defied your wishes – I stated, panting, still feeling the blood on my dry mouth.

\- You didn’t fail me, however – I blinked at the answer - By plotting against the other Hunters, you turned the chase inside out. And the ones you killed were no base prey. You continue to amuse and impress. You can keep the ring, now back to its original enchantment, to give control over werewolf transformations.

\- I think the extra curse should come with more rewards – Protested Barbas – And if I didn’t bring the mortals to the stag, you wouldn't have entertainment, so at least I deserve something.

\- Yes, that is true. If your master doesn’t accept you back, you can have a place at my side, little hunter. But I believe you are looking for this… - An axe materialized in front of us, and the ghost vanished. The last words echoed in the mountains - Go forth, with my blessing.

I stared at the object.

\- Oh, it’s The Rueful Axe! – Barbas rolled on his back happily.

And that’s how I managed to give Sinding the uncursed ring and help the dog in the same night. Lydia had to help me dress and stand, however, so these simple deliveries consumed several hours. Sinding was grateful, promising to stay around his Grotto in case I ever needed his help, and Lydia was proud of my decisions of today. “Now I’m sure I can trust you will only kill when necessary. You have done great sacrifices tonight, my Thane.” And yet, she was the one carrying all my burdens, the consequences of my decisions, and myself. Ironically, for the first time, there wasn’t an hint of sarcasm or complaint in her voice.

We finally reached Vile’s shrine.

\- We're back – I threw the axe to the statue's feet and went straight to the point - Now fulfill your end of the bargain.

\- Ah, you've got the axe! And my dog. Splendid. Excellent work – His comical voice made it really hard to discern how satisfied he really felt - A hero and his faithful companion, retrieving the ancient artifact for the prince. It's almost... storybook – I controlled my shivers. I knew he wasn’t finished - Ah, but it almost seems a shame to give a weapon like that away, doesn't it? I suppose I could be persuaded to let you keep it... But only if you use the axe to kill Barbas. Simple as that.

\- No deal – I answered firmly. This, at least, was a truly simple decision - Take the axe and take back Barbas!

\- Hrmph. You're no fun at all. Guess I'll have to make my own fun elsewhere. And with the pup back, I'll be restored to my full power. There's a whole world just waiting for me!

\- I knew I could trust you! – Said Barbas, with his tongue hanging funnily.

\- Yeah, yeah, dog gets master, master gets cosmic axe, everyone's happy. Just get over here, mutt.

\- Don't worry, I'll make sure he sees the light – The dog told me - I trusted you, now you trust me.

I smiled, and leaned a little to pet the dog’s head without damaging my legs more. So this was it, huh? I didn’t know what to say, and I felt Lydia was equally reluctant to exchange words with a dog, but after all that happened, it was hard to not feel any kind of attachment to this talking dog I would probably never see again. A black hole appeared around him and he dematerialized, reappearing as a statue beside the Prince.

\- Ah, that feels so much better! – Exclaimed the Daedra - You forget how nice supreme power feels until you've been stuck in a cave for a few years. It's a shame that you wished for something so dull as me taking back the mutt. Quite the lack of imagination on your part. A lack of ambition like that really ought to be punished. Perhaps by turning you into a worm, or maybe a few decades of... – Not even his petty threats could wash my smile away, and the Daedric Prince realized that - Oh, fine. Have my boon and be done with it. I've got more interesting deals to make, anyway.

And the horrible mask he was previously holding felt on my side.

I knew I would never use that. But I intended to add it to my collection.

The return to Whiterun was slow, and me and Lydia had a lot of things to talk about. When I returned, I still had to recover, forced to avoid heavy work for more than a week, so I devoted my attention to my friends, my daughters (they made significant progress at reading), and meditation. When I finally felt better, I restarted training my fighting skills with the Companions, my Shouts and regaining muscle. Several weeks later, I already longed for adventure.

So I went to Dawnstar. And this time, I took my favorite pack mule with me.


	14. Waking Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talos collects one more crush ;)
> 
> Imagine Dawnstar like a mix between these two mods, with the walls and Jarl longhouse/keep from this [https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/19491] and the decorative details and additions from here [https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/61460/?]

The rusty wind left sulks in my lips, and was trying to make me cry. The cold, however, didn’t bother me as much as it did Marcurio, possibly because I was part Nord. Did that mean I was fine sleeping outside? No. Not for another day. When I decided to travel to this city, I expected the calm and soft snow of Windhelm, its peaceful, somewhat gloomy beauty that matched the resistant bodies, hardened attitude and difficult but settled past of its people. Dawnstar? Dawnstar was furious and restless: the blasting wind, the waves of the sea that threatened the ships at the central port… and its people.

When we finally entered the city’s stone gates, it was clear that something was wrong.

\- These people look like they could use some sleep – Noted Marcurio, and it was true. They had dark circles under their eyes and moved in a way that simultaneously looked stressed and tired, like when someone doesn’t manage to do something important and it leaves a person feeling even wearier, and even more worried, trapped in that cycle of problems.

Not even the guards paid much attention to us. When we asked for rumors, the only things we got were something about nightmares and another about an organization.

\- Heard they’re reforming the Dawnguard. Vampire hunters or something…

Most of them simply directed us to the local inn, and we were inclined to comply.

We entered the cozy Windpeak Inn, with plenty of banners and tapestries, full of people inside. While the decorations and the warmth contrasted greatly with the outside, the same couldn’t be said about the people: I could see mostly rude male clients, a boy sleeping in a mattress near the fire (he moved a lot, and his face indicated he was having a bad dream), the innkeeper behind the counter and two maids, both dressed in green.

\- You beasts are the worst – Was snarling one of them to the clients, a blonde young woman with wavy hair and a dress that barely covered her shoulders, in green, yellow and the dirty white of the apron on top.

\- Come now, dearie, surely we aren't all that bad – Dragged one of the men, clearly drunk.

\- Just... leave me alone! – She stomped - I've brought your mead, now drink it and shut your filthy mouths.

\- Oh, we've got other things in mind for our mouths, sweetie.

She was followed by laughter.

\- I want to help her – I whispered at Marcurio’s ear.

\- As you always do. And of course, you have the strength to do just that, but in your place, I wouldn’t, and you know I love to impress people – I raised my eyebrow at him – We are not staying here, I imagine. But they are. So that means that if you interfere today, they will make her life worse tomorrow.

\- Ah… You’re right. I wasn’t thinking in the long run.

We asked for the day’s dish and sat on a table to wait, while I thought about all the ways I could scare that dirty bunch. Killing was out of question, at least in this case. Humm, Shouting? What about…

\- I was wondering, father – Said the woman from before to the innkeeper. So she was his daughter and the father still accepted that kind of clients? - Maybe you should take a day off and head into town. I could watch the inn while you're away.

I glimpsed her profile and long neck, the way her hair – actually copperish – graced her face and shoulders, and her long lashes. She was sat at the balcony, tunning a lute on her lap. She looked… disappointed with something, maybe sad, maybe discouraged.

\- Why would I do that? – Asked the innkeeper at a loss - There's work to be done here.

\- It'll do you good! Maybe you could visit Irgnir or Fruki on your way out? I've seen them looking at you when they come in for drinks… - She smiled sweetly.

\- Why would they be looking at me? Are they upset about the service? – Oh god, the man really missed that hint…

\- Oh, never mind – She looked down, and for a while, kept her attention on the strings and let her father work – Father, do you want to talk? – She wondered - About Mother?

The innkeeper never lifted his eyes from the meal he was preparing.

\- No, Karita. I don't think I could.

\- I'm sure she would want you to be happy, father – The woman insisted softly, and my heart went for her. She was the one trying to keep the family heads over water, as if her own wasn’t already enough. She tried to sound enthusiastic, but on top of all, I noticed the longing - Entertaining the guests and drinking and making your lewd jokes like before!

\- I'm sorry – Was the dispirited answer - I just don't feel up to entertaining anyone right now.

Not long after, she brought the dishes to our table. She had green eyes.

\- I envy you travelers. Dreams aren't affecting anyone out of here.

\- Dreams? - I questioned. And weren’t dreams a good thing?

\- I mean nightmares. Everyone has been having them lately, and it makes sleeping unpleasant. People already have their theories, but that’s probably not the kind of rumor you’re interested in hearing about.

\- I’m more interested in getting to know y… - I bit my tongue and almost moaned over the pain, but at least I didn’t finish the sentence. How could I? How could I criticize the other clients and then sound almost as creepy?! Marcurio was fitting as much deer as possible in his mouth, but I could see the laugh lines and felt my face burn. I glanced at her and noticed how she looked amused and hesitant at the same time. “Well, time to fish for a question.” - Do you work here all day?

\- Yes. Ever since mother died a few winters ago – I wasn’t expecting her to admit it so easily. Should I offer my sympathies, or…? - I play songs and help with the drinks when I have the time.

\- Where'd you learn to play? – Alright, the conversation was getting under control.

\- My mother taught me – Shit. But maybe it was good for her to talk about her mother to a stranger. She certainly seemed eager to share her good memories without someone to drown her in sorrow - She was a bard, from the college in Solitude. I hear they accept most people who apply, if you're ever interested.

\- What about you? Maybe you could expand your skills. And get away from the nightmares, and the, hum – I gestured towards the other clients, and she made a disgusted face.

\- Oh, yes, I would love to leave and study in Solitude. But my father… he isn’t recovering well, and I think it’s my duty to support him.

\- You don’t have a duty to take care of everyone who ever took care of you, nor to be their savior – I found myself saying – And if he values you, I don’t think he would want you to sacrifice your goals for him. If you want to stay and support him, do it by your own choice. But being a hero because you assume you have no choice… I don’t think it’s a burden anyone should carry.

She blinked, and her eyes widened.

\- Sorry, that was… awkward – I brushed my nape.

\- Oh, no, no, it was good advice. Thank you – She gave me a smile that made me forget where I was for a second, and pinned a lock of hair behind her ear. She straightened, much more energized - Let me know if you need a drink. That's what we're here for, even if my father seems a bit distracted. And my name is Karita – She winked, and I was at a loss of words.

Then, she returned to tuning her lute with intensity, and I tried to avoid the knowing looks Marcurio sent my way while we ate. Finally, she was satisfied with her lute and brought it to the center of the room, the fire casting shadows over her lines. I had no doubts she was going to play something, and all of the clients – the men from before, the kid that was awake, an older woman who just entered and a bunch of miners – were giving her their full attention.

\- This song is a favorite of mine – She immediately caught my interest, projecting her firm voice - a song taught by my mother, may her soul thrive in Sovengard – That quieted the men, who were making rude gestures and improper comments about Karita - It’s a song I will dedicate to her memory, to what Skyrim is going through… - she looked at me, and smiled - and to a hero who is burdened with saving the world from the dragons, and sacrifices their life for all of our own.

I was still processing what she said when she opened her mouth to sing something I never heard before, and swept me from my surroundings. I only had attention for her and her melody:

“Our hero, our hero  
Claims a warrior's heart  
I tell you, I tell you  
The Dragonborn comes”

No. She couldn’t know I was the Dragonborn. She was simply singing about someone that she thought would fit my own critique, and somehow ended singing about myself. How hypocrite I was… And how she honored me with this hurtful song…

“With a Voice wielding power  
Of the ancient Nord art  
Believe, believe  
The Dragonborn comes

It's an end to the evil  
Of all Skyrim's foes  
Beware, beware  
The Dragonborn comes

For the darkness has passed  
And the legend yet grows  
You'll know, you'll know  
The Dragonborn's come”

When we went to sleep, we decided we were fine sharing a bed. I didn’t sleep in Marcurio’s arms – there was no reason for that – but I appreciated how we could relax this close and mutter quietly until we fell asleep. He didn’t confront me with my acquired crush, or with the song, which I was thankful for: I still didn’t know what to think of it. But I knew, now more than ever, how much people were counting on me, and to fail to bring Alduin down wouldn’t just bring them disappointment – it would also mean their deaths…

If I just closed my eyes, I could see them. The houses, burning. More blood than war could bring. The skies covered by dragons. Karita was singing amidst it all, her dress and hair burning until the fire licked her skin, about how I would save them, but I wasn’t even sure about which dragon was Alduin. Why wasn’t she taking coverage? I had to do something, before it was too late.

I saw the dead bodies around me, people I recognized. The inhabitants of Whiterun, Mary and Geralt, Camilla and her two lovers, members of the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood together, Sinding, Barbas, even Ulfric Stormcloak, and children. Arentino.

“No”.

I started sprinting, looking for my daughters, screaming their names. I finally saw them. Lydia was protecting them, clutching Sofie against her chest while pointing her sword to a dragon, Lucia swinging a wooden sword at her side. The Dragon was huge, black, with blood on his face and scales, some of the scales golden, around his eyes, claws and spine. He penetrated my gaze, red eyes meeting gold. I barely recognized him. He, on the other hand, seemed to know all my weaknesses…

\- Stoooop! – I felt my own throat on fire, but the only fire I managed left my throat raw, my shout from despair instead of power.

But his? His engulfed my family.

I fell on my knees, my vision blurry, and I looked back in an attempt to shut reality out. The last thing I saw was a broken lute, and Marcurio staggering against me. He fell against my body, clutching my shoulders.

\- Ssh, it’s okay, it was a nightmare. I had one too – He hugged me tight, and I stopped struggling. I was in the inn, the candle was out, and the only lights leaked from under the door. He was breathing heavily, and I felt my chest compressing against his at the same time he inhaled deeply. “A nightmare…”

\- Are you okay? – I asked, calmer. He pressed his face against my neck, and I let him. The contact of his skin helped me keep the images at bay.

\- I will be. Its not real.

\- Mine may become real. I failed them all… - It was hard to breathe. And Marcurio didn’t offer any kind of consolation, or advice. He just kept hugging, and I recognized it was better this way. At least he wouldn’t drown me in toxic positivity, or say vague, empty words.

I fell asleep again, after a time meditating. It wasn’t a restful sleep, but was better than nothing, and if I “dreamed” again, I didn’t remember. When we got to the main room in the morning, everyone was already awake and working. What Karita told me the night before was obviously true, and no one wanted to deliver their minds to the nightmares more than necessary.

Karita was swiping the floor while her father cleaned the mugs, and the few clients were two miners, both apparently women and Nords, and a male priest in a golden garb, locked in a discussion.

\- It's a curse! It has to be! I've got to get out of this town. – Despaired one of the women.

\- Irgnir, get a hold of yourself. They're just dreams – Said the other. I couldn’t say I was surprised by seeing people create more rumors about such a worrying thing this early - Please tell her, Erandur.

\- Listen to your friend, Fruki – The priest tried to calm her - They are just dreams, my dear. I assure you that it is quite normal.

\- It's the same dream over and over again. You think that's normal? It's evil I tell you! – Irgnir closed and opened her fists repeatedly.

\- Erandur, she has a point. You keep telling us no harm will follow these dreams, but they must be an omen – Now Fruki was siding with the other miner.

\- Give him a chance to speak – Interrupted Thoring, the innkeeper, from behind the counter - He's trying to help us.

\- Everyone, please – Erandur was pacing around the room, not looking at anyone in particular - I'm doing what I can to end these nightmares. In the meantime, all I ask is you remain strong and put your trust in Lady Mara.

\- I... I will – Irgnir seemed sorry for disturbing the priest - Thank you...

I couldn’t lose this chance. If someone could know something about these nightmares, it was the priest, and since I couldn’t help Karita getting out of here, I could at least help her live here more comfortably, and with that, help the city as well.

\- What's wrong with everyone around here? – I asked, and heard Marcurio chuckle behind me.

The group looked at me, the miners surprised, the priest with a raised eyebrow. He had purple eyes, that scanned me, and I did my best to look like a promising fighter despite being so tired. The priest turned to the women and told them he would handle the situation, encouraging them to return to their work. Only when they left the room he addressed me.

\- The entire town is being plagued by horrible nightmares, as you probably heard and even experienced yourself – He guessed correctly - They're in serious danger, but I'm afraid there's little I can do about it.

\- How is that dangerous? – The only danger I could see was to their health, since fear and lack of sleep weren’t exactly good things - Dreams aren't real.

\- In any other circumstance, I'd agree with you. However, these aren't normal dreams. They are manifestations created by the Deadric Lord Vaermina. She has an awful hunger for our memories. In return, she leaves behind nightmares, not unlike a cough marks a serious illness. I must end her terrible influence over these people before the damage becomes permanent.

\- What's your plan? – I asked, almost regretting my involvement with another Daedric Prince.

\- I need to return to the source of the problem, to Nightcaller Temple. Perhaps you'd be willing to assist me in that regard?

\- What do you mean, "return"? – Wondered Marcurio, and I was glad for the pertinent question - You've been there?

\- I've already said too much – He shook his head - If anyone overhears what we're saying, it could start a panic. I would simply ask that you trust me and help me end Dawnstar's nightmares.

\- I… trust you – I decided - How can I help?

\- Wonderful! My lady Mara will be quite pleased! Nightcaller Temple is only a short walk from Dawnstar. Come, we must hurry.

\- Not so fast – I interrupted, grabbing one of his long sleeves – First, what can you tell me about the Daedric Lord Vaermina? I wish to know what I may be fighting, and while I like to read about several subjects, I imagine a priest is a more trustworthy source. – He sighed.

\- Vaermina resides in a strange realm known as Quagmire... a nightmarish land where reality shifts upon itself in seemingly impossible ways – He met my eyes - From her citadel at the center, she reaches forth to collect our memories, leaving nothing in return apart from visions of horror and despair.

\- What does she do with the memories?

\- Who can say? Perhaps she collects them for display like works of art in a nonsensical art gallery. Whatever the case may be, her intentions are far from benevolent. But she is not the only thing we will be fighting. Follow me, and I will explain more.

We traveled with him to the Nightcaller Temple, a short distance east of Dawnstar. When I pressed for details, he simply insisted that I should trust him as a priest of Mara. I exchanged a dubious look with Marcurio.

\- Follow me, it's this way – He said, after no more than ten minutes of traveling - It feels good to finally have a chance to help these people. Helplessly watching them suffer's been difficult – He seemed sincere. Then, he pointed at an old building amidst the snow - The tower on that hill is our destination. People around here call it the Tower of the Dawn. I'm not familiar with the tower's history, but it was deserted for quite a long time before Nightcaller Temple was established inside. When the temple was active the priests would rarely be seen in Dawnstar, hey preferred to live a solitary existence. The temple's been abandoned for decades now. Ironic, isn't it... a ruin within a ruin? – I saw a shadow of a smile, a sad smile, in his face, and wondered if it was just because of the irony - There's a small shrine to Mara I established inside the tower's entry hall. I was hoping to seek spiritual guidance from Her. Perhaps my prayers were answered, and your reason for stumbling across Dawnstar is more than a mere coincidence.

I wasn’t so sure about that, but it didn’t matter. We finally reached the tower, and I looked to the priest. He rubbed his hands and nodded.

\- Before we enter, I must warn you about the dangers that could be lurking within – He said, and I was thankful that he was going to do as he promised - Years ago, this temple was raided by an orc war party seeking revenge... they were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar.

\- Were they successful?

\- No. Knowing they could never defeat the orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call "The Miasma," putting everyone to sleep.

\- Why is it dangerous if they're asleep?

\- I'm concerned that when this place is unsealed, the Miasma will dissipate and they'll awaken; both orcs and priests alike.

\- Ah, and you doubt any of them will see us as friends – My lips curled in a distorted smile - What does the Miasma do?

\- The Miasma was created by the priests of Vaermina for their rituals. It's a gas that places the affected in a deep sleep. Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the aging process.

\- Is the gas dangerous? – Asked Marcurio, and I could see him ready a spell on his hands.

\- Sadly, yes. The longer an individual is exposed to the Miasma, the more the mind can become damaged. Those who've been under the effect of it for extended periods of time have been known to lose their minds entirely. In some cases, a few never awoke at all. But since we will probably disrupt it, I doubt it will be dangerous for us. At most, it served to corrupt the mind of everyone inside. Come, the first chamber is safe.

I had no more questions, so we entered. The first chamber was a kind of temple, an auditory where I could easily picture a priest giving a sermon where other people sat at the long, low benches. There was a small Shrine of Mara at a table at the side, and moss hanging from the walls. I couldn’t see any door or path, but Marcuro showed to me that a part of the wall in front of us was there by magic. "Yes, and the key to this one is a fire spell”, confirmed the priest. “Give me just a moment, and I'll have this open." Casting the spell made that part of the wall appear translucent, emitting a purple light, and we were able to get through it. In the next room, we started descending a spiral of stairs and at our right, from over the stairways, we could see an orb glowing and pulsating at the bottom of the tower. Erandur urged me to look from closer: "Now I can show you the source of the nightmares. Over here. Behold the Skull of Corruption, the source of Dawnstar's woes. We must reach the inner sanctum and destroy it. Come, there's no time to lose." Following him down a curving set of steps lead us, however, to some Orcs, and as the priest predicted, we disrupted the Miasma and they woke up. I wasn’t sure if they knew what was happening, or even cared. Despite the massive strength of their race, they were easy to strike down, now dead instead of asleep, possibly because the miasma also affected their ability to react. However, killing them didn’t help us to proceed for, in front of us, there was a blue magical barrier.

\- Damn it – Lamented Erandur - The priests must have activated this barrier when the Miasma was released.

\- Looks difficult to breach – Noted Marcurio.

\- Impossible, actually. Hmm, I wonder... There may be a way to bypass the barrier, but I must check their library and confirm it can be done.

I exchanged another look with Marcurio.

\- You seem to know an awful lot about this place – I insisted.

\- I suppose there's no point in concealing the truth any longer – The priest simply shrugged, as if he knew this would be inevitable and didn’t mind if I judged him - My knowledge of this temple comes from personal experience. I was a priest of Vaermina.

\- Why keep it a secret, then? – I didn’t exactly judge him. How could someone ever serve a Daedra willingly was beyond me, but at least he changed…

\- Partly, it was because I needed to ensure you would come with me, and while I thank you for your calm reaction, I couldn’t be sure if you would still help me after hearing the truth. But there’s another reason… - He was staring at nothing, his eyes unfocused while his head was still looking at the barrier - When the orcs invaded the temple, I fled – He almost whispered - I left my brothers and sisters here to die – I didn’t know what to do, but he recovered on his own. He probably had a lot of time to reflect on his actions, and maybe the fact that he converted on a priest of Mara was a way to achieve redemption - I still have my key to the library. Whenever you're ready, let's move on.

\- Explain this to me first: How can the Skull be affecting Dawnstar?

\- Lore holds that the Skull of Corruption holds a constant hunger for the memories of others. The Skull has been out of touch for so long, I fear it's gained the ability to reach out on its own and try to feed – I shivered - What it does with these memories is just conjecture, and an argument for scholars and historians to this very day.

In the library, accessible through a door he unlocked at our right, we woke up Vaermina Devotees, and if they ever knew Erandur before, they didn’t recognize him, and we had to kill them as well. I noticed how all of them had purple eyes, just like Erandur. The library had two levels, but most of the tomes were destroyed in some way, and the way we had to fight until the first floor damaged even more books with magical explosions. When we were sure the bodies wouldn’t get up again, the priest turned to me and Marcurio.

\- Barring any more interruptions, perhaps we can locate the information I need.

\- What are we looking for?

\- We're looking for a book of alchemical recipes called "The Dreamstride." The tome bears the likeness of Vaermina on the cover. It should be here somewhere… If you check around the shelves around the balcony, I'll check around the lower level.

Marcurio never stopped complaining about the state of the books, and I felt the same way. All this information, lost… I could only imagine how Erandur was feeling. That said, for as tempting as it was to glance at the intact passages here and there, I didn’t have the Time to read just now. And among so many books, finding the right one wasn’t easy. At least the colors attracted attention: the background of the cover and the spine were on a light-blue tone, the color of the sky on a sunny day. The title confirmed it was the right book, and I took it to the priest.

\- Found it – I proudly announced.

\- Let me take a look... – He took it with firm hands and started reading some passages, and his eyes lit when he found what he wanted - Mara be praised! There is a way past the barrier to the inner sanctum. It involves a recipe for a liquid known as Vaermina's Torpor. The laboratory adjoints the library. I'm hoping we'll find a sample of the Torpor left undamaged.

\- Is that some type of potion?

\- Yes. The Torpor grants an ability the priests of Vaermina called "The Dreamstride"; using dreams to travel distances in the real world.

\- That's impossible – Stated Marcurio.

\- I assure you, the Dreamstride is well known in Vaerminian Lore. Alchemy and the blessings of a Divine distilled down into an ingestible liquid. Sadly, I have yet to see it function in person.

\- I'm going to be your test subject, then? – I tried to joke but, in all honesty, I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea. And yet, a part of me anticipated the experience, another thing I could claim to have done that almost no one else could.

\- As a sworn priest of Mara, the elixir won't work for me. The Torpor will only work for Priests of Vaermina, or the unaffiliated. It will have to be either you or your friend.

\- Nope, not me! I’m not paid enough for that – Marcurio declared, and I knew he really didn’t want the risk, that being the only reason why I didn’t offer to pay him more.

\- Sounds dangerous. How can you be certain? – I insisted.

\- I will not lie to you, there is some risk involved. The last time the Torpor was imbibed could have been decades ago. But I swear upon Lady Mara that I will do everything within my power to prevent any harm from befalling you, and in any case, the most probable risk is that nothing happens and you simply feel undisputed.

“Hope there’s somewhere close where I can shit, then”. My own thought almost made me laugh, but as usual, I tried to refocus concentrating on important questions:

\- What will The Dreamstride feel like?

\- You'll be viewing the memory of another through your own eyes and with your own body – Oh, wow - Those around you will perceive you as normal and you will find the words you utter may not be your own. Thanks to all of these odd principles, there is quite a lot of debate as to whether this is really a dream or just the machinations of Vaermina.

\- That almost sounds interesting – Muttered Marcurio.

\- How will I know when to awaken?

\- I will watch over you as you slumber to ensure your safety. If I deduce anything is amiss, I will use my arts to bring you back. Otherwise, I am uncertain what will end your Dreamstride. Perhaps when Vaermina's curious appetite has been filled…

Our next stop was the laboratory, the room adjacent to the library. There were some more invader Orcs and Vaermina Devotees that we needed to deal with along the way, but after that, the potion was relatively easy to find, at least, more than the book. It was located on the shelf in the corner of the laboratory, next to three candles on the wall.

\- I'm relieved you discovered a bottle intact; This place looks as though it was ransacked by the orcs – Erandur was almost smiling, inspecting the liquid under a light spell. Satisfied, he turned to me - So... I've taken us this far, but you need to guide us the rest of the way. Drink – I blinked.

\- Here? Now?

\- Dawnstar's fate rests in that tiny bottle. The longer we wait, the more damage Vaermina could be doing to those poor people.

\- You better be sure of what you are saying, priest – Marcurio suddenly stated, attracting his attention – I’m not going to lose them because of something as foolish as Dreams, caused by Daedra or not. And Daedra seemed to like to play with them a lot. I don’t want them hurt - I never saw him this intimidating before, unless when he mentioned things he particularly despised, like vampires. It moved me. Most of all because he didn’t seem worried about losing the hero of a prophecy, he didn’t seem worried about how he and the world would be in danger if I died before my time. He was worried about me, because of our bond, I dared believe.

But the priest didn’t show fear. Quite the opposite, his expression softened, and he gave a reassuring smile.

\- I understand your hesitation, but I promise you that it works.

I looked at both of them, and nodded, taking out the lid of the flask. No cheesy goodbyes nor fatalistic words. I drank the liquid at once, since the flask was so small. My vision got blurry, and while I could see their mouths moving, I couldn’t hear them. Marcurio made a gesture in my direction, as if he was trying to catch me, but his hand got through my body. When I realized, I was in a completely different room, and the two men at each of my sides were not Marcurio nor Erandur, but two Vaermina Devotees.

They were talking about an orc attack, and I realized two things: One, the name of the person they perceived me as, Casimir; Second, that I was witnessing the raid on the temple through Casimir’s memories. And the two devotees charged me with releasing the Miasma to protect the Skull, that was pulsating right behind my back.

I didn’t know where the mechanism was, but I didn’t have to: I couldn’t control my actions. I traversed the tower, trying to absorb as much information as possible: how many foes we would have to face in each room, what was the path… Finally, I reached the other side of the barrier we wanted to deactivate, that didn’t exist yet, and pulled a large ring on a chain on the wall. Then, I woke up. Or rather, found myself in the present, still gripping the chain, and noticed a glowing soul gem on the top of it. “So this is what is powering the barrier?”. It was probably activated together with the Miasma. I dislodged the gem from its place, and the barrier went down.

My heart was still out of sync, but it wasn’t so hard… Not long after, I heard footsteps, and turned to receive the mages with a smile.

\- It... it worked – When Erandur caught himself gasping, he shook his head - Mara be praised! You vanished after drinking the Torpor and materialized on the other side. I have never seen anything quite like it.

\- It was remarkable... As if I were really there – I admitted, glad to have accepted the risk despite how I was still feeling disoriented.

\- How I envy you. I can only imagine the excitement of seeing history through the eyes of another! Sadly, I am resigned to just reading of its wonders through my research of the Skull.

\- We can discuss it later – I softened my words with a hand on his shoulder, and he smiled back - We need to proceed.

\- Indeed. My reverence for Vaermina's machinations should not take precedence over our mission. My apologies. The inner sanctum lies ahead. We must reach the Skull and put an end to Dawnstar's troubles.

Now not only the priest knew the path, I did too. I wondered if that was why Marcurio was so silent, if he felt out of place or something. After defeating some more orcs, while we were looting a particularly interesting room, I decided to provoke him while Erandur had he’s back turned against us. I approached him from behind and bit the tip of his ear.

\- Hey, what was …?!

I couldn’t contain myself towards his indignation, and started shaking with laughter. He seemed to understand I was just messing with him, and rolled his eyes, finally joining me. He disheveled my hair that already allowed for that.

\- I was worried, alright?

\- But I’m fine. I’m the Dragonborn, after all, and I doubt the gods would let me die at the hands of a Daedra after going through the trouble of creating me.

\- But you could still be hurt, and neither the priest nor me could do anything after your body vanished, no matter what he said or how much you pay me – He was so serious. It unsettled me to see him like this.

\- Then… It wouldn’t be your fault. But I’m not hurt, so don’t be sulky, yes? – I gave him a little playful push – Where’s your intrepid side? Lydia is the one that makes me be all serious and tough, I like how you make me have more fun…

He gave me a sideways smirk.

\- I see. Speaking of fun, it’s funny how you that are always complaining about other people's assumptions just assumed my attention to your well-being meant I wasn’t having fun. Are you aware I have already killed more people than you? Try to beat me.

We entered the next chamber side by side, and I gladly lost control over the smile spreading on my face.

A quarter of hour later, as we approached the inner sanctum, two Vaermina Devotees appear, seemingly more aware of their surroundings than the others. Then, as I realized how close we were to the Skull, I understood why they looked familiar: they were the ones that spoke to Casimir at the beginning of the Dreamstride. Erandur stopped where he was, and I readied my sword, but they didn’t attack.

\- Wait... Veren... Thorek... – I finally knew their names, huh? Erandur widened his eyes, and for a second I saw what looked like tears in the corners - you're alive!

\- No thanks to you, Casimir – Stated one of them.

Casimir. Erandur was Casimir, and I saw his own memories. The Deadra really were cruel…

The priest took a step back, and the hope fled from his face towards the hostility of his previous friends.

\- I no longer use that name - He declared - I'm Erandur, Priest of Mara.

\- You're a traitor – Snarled the other - You left us to die and then ran before the Miasma took you.

\- No. I... I was scared. I wasn't ready to sleep.

\- Technically, you two are wrong – I felt the urge to interrupt and call out their stupidity - If Casimir hadn’t run, no matter the motivations, there would be no one to awaken you. So, you are alive thanks to him.

The first devotee seemed taken aback by what I said, and for a second I almost believed they would see the logic of what I said and place it over the betrayal. But the other wasn’t convinced, and as he readied a spell on his hand, his unforgiving nature infecting the first as he screamed:

\- Enough of your lies! I can't allow you to destroy the Skull, Priest of Mara.

\- Then you leave me no choice! – And Erandur shot his friend before my eyes.

This was the hardest battle of the day. Both groups had strong motivations, something to protect and an old bond to burn. But we managed to win without me having to recur to Shouting, something I wanted to avoid this close to the presence of a Daedra. When the other two were laying on the floor, Erandur took his time crouched between their bodies, and had the care to close their eyes.

\- I... knew Veren and Thorek – He whispered, and I didn’t have the heart to reveal I knew that trough his memories - They were my friends. Is this punishment for my past? Is it Mara's will to torment me so?

\- I doubt it – I answered, despite knowing I didn’t have to – It’s probably the influence of Vaermina. I’m sorry, for your loss.

\- I mourned them years ago – He got up, looking at the stairs ahead leading to the artifact. We climbed the stairs, him in the lead with a determined expression on his face. We were in front of the Skull of Vaermina, throbbing and making my stomach feel sick even with only a fragment of the powers that got through the red barrier around it - It's time. The Skull must be destroyed. If you'll stand back, I'll perform the ritual granted to me by Lady Mara – I stepped back, and he joined his palms in front of the chest, lacing the fingers. He took a deep breath - First, an incantation to remove the barrier. I call upon you, Lady Mara! – He invoked, throwing his head back and looking at the ceiling, as if he could see the goddess above - The Skull hungers... It yearns for memories and leaves nightmares in its wake. Grant me the power to break through this barrier and to send the Skull to the depths of Oblivion!

Then, I heard a voice in my head.

"He's deceiving you. When the ritual's complete, the Skull will be free and then Erandur will turn on you. Quickly! Kill him now. Kill him and claim the Skull for your own! Vaermina commands you!"

No one else seemed aware of the voice. I smirked. If this was all Vaermina could do, then not all of the Daedra Princes should be feared. The Prince had no right to command me. If Erandur really turned on me, I would just have to kill him then, and I knew I was stronger than he was.

The priest was faithful to his word. After removing the barrier, he cast a second spell that shattered the Skull and the sickening sensation dispersed. The three of us sighed at the same time, even the air was cleaner, and I found out that while I and Marcurio were smiling, Erandur seemed… lost.

\- So… it’s done, right? – I wondered.

\- Yes. The Skull has been destroyed and Dawnstar is safe – He assured me, and his attempt to smile back was so weak that he gave up - Forgive me if I don't appear relieved... This temple has taken its toll on me.

\- I understand. Are you going to be all right?

\- In time, I believe I will – He straightened and took something from his sleeve, handling it to us: two amulets of Mara. My smile and Marcurio’s surprise as we accepted the gifts made him look more satisfied with what we accomplished, and when he spoke, his tone was already lighter - Being a humble servant of Mara, I have little in the way of gold or coin, but perhaps I can offer you something better... companionship. I'd constructed a meager shrine to Mara in the antechamber where we entered, as I told you before. My intention was to spend the rest of my years here, burying the past and praying for forgiveness – I remembered seeing the Shrine, but his real intentions never crossed my mind before. The image of him living alone in a place that brought him so many memories, of what he lost and who he betrayed, tugged at my heart. He didn’t deserve that kind of punishment, nor to be stuck in the past. It was almost like choosing to stay in a nightmare. How ironic… - Instead – He proceeded - I wish to offer my services to you. If you ever wish to journey with me, I'll be here.

\- Thank you – I put the amulet on, and held his hand before he could lower it – I’m happy you reached that decision, and glad you would like to travel with us.

\- There's no need to thank me. What you did was for the people of Dawnstar. If anyone should be thanked, it should be you.

\- Still. If you want, you can already come with us – I offered, and he gave me a sad smile.

\- I’m not ready yet. But when you visit Dawnstar again, I promise I will be.

That was goodbye. By impulse, I threw my arms around his neck, which was easy given my height, and found it funny how the priest of the Goddess of Love was so hesitant to hug me back. When we separated, Marcurio patted his back and rolled his eyes at my raised eyebrow. I mean, he was quick to forgive the priest for putting me in danger, huh?  
When we returned to Dawnstar, I felt lighter.

There was no reason to rush things. I spent the rest of the day exploring the city, selling some of the things I looted, and even visited the Museum owned by Silus Vesuius, who was a descendant of the Daedric Cult of the Mythic Dawn. He explained to me how the cult, serving the Prince Mehrunes Dagon, was responsible for the Oblivion Crisis – was he proud of that? No matter, the things displayed were interesting - and suggested that an adventurer like me could bring him back the missing pieces of the Mehrunes’ Razor. I didn’t want to give a definite answer, so I simply said that if I came across any, I would bring it to him.

After sunset, we returned to the inn.

Karita was having a pleasant conversation with an old woman I already met, the owner of the alchemy shop, The Mortar and Pestle.

\- Did I ever tell you about the day when Skald the Elder was Skald the Younger? – Was she saying to the bard.

\- I can't imagine Skald ever being young – Karita joked, and I appreciated how she made comments like those about her own Jarl.

\- Oh, he was young, and handsome. I had half a mind to go after him, myself, before I met my husband.

\- Frida, you aren't saying...

\- I was a beauty in my day, dearie. Don't act so surprised.

Both of them giggled while me and Marcurio went for a table, and I felt happy for her. Maybe it was a coincidence, but it was like all this happiness came back to the city by lifting the Daedric curse.

\- Did you ever have to fight off bandits, Frida? – Karita wondered - Like in your stories?

\- Why, I once fought alongside your father when we were both younger. Saved him from getting his fool head sliced off – I was starting to find the alchemist really interesting.

\- Who were you fighting against?

\- Oh, dearie, it was so long ago. But I do remember the celebration we had afterwards. Mead never tasted so good. Thoring? – She called the innkeeper, and he looked fondly to her from behind the balcony - Who was it that kidnapped the Jarl's son 20 years ago?

\- You mean Hildolf the Skull-Splitter? Remember when we rounded up the townspeople and dragged him out of that cave?

\- Those were the days. I'd never seen my husband fight so bravely before.

\- Aye, to your husband. Divines bless his memory – Thoring raised a mug in tribute, and not even the mention of a deceased partner let his mood down. Karita looked particularly happy, and I felt the same way for the family.

\- Her father sounds like a different person from the man of yesterday – Whispered Marcurio to me.

\- I was thinking the same – I agreed, and meanwhile Karita came to us.

\- I see you succeeded – She remarked, with a knowing smile.

\- I… how do you know? – Why would I lie to her, anyway?

\- I heard what Erandur told you - She explained – Now that you’re back, and everyone feels so relieved, I assumed it went well. Is he… - She denoted apprehension, and I was quick to calm her.

\- He is fine. He wants to stay at the tower for a while to reflect. I’m glad everyone feels better already – I couldn’t contain my satisfaction, but didn’t try to hide my foolish expression. I didn’t want to.

\- Well, and I’m glad you came to Dawnstar. You see… - I saw her hands trembling, and she lowered her voice – I’ve been thinking about what you told me yesterday, and if any of the able folk of Dawnstar was an adventurer, we could have solved our own problem. It could have been me, if I just had the courage. And the skills…

\- You’re always in time to learn how to fight – I stated.

\- Exactly! And it’s not even something I really want. I don’t want to learn how to fight for the skill, or the fame. I want to learn it, to be able to help and protect. So, maybe, I’m going to ask my father for permission to go on adventures.

My heart was beating frantically, and the next words I said were amongst the hardest things I’ve done in the life I remembered:

\- If you ask today, you can depart with us tomorrow – I had to fill my lungs with air when I finished that sentence. I heard Marcurio cough.

Her eyes sparkled and then her face melted in gratefulness, and her smile was so cute that I found myself melting back, for different reasons.

\- In that case, I think I will – She chuckled – Wish me luck! – And she went to her father without even asking what we wanted for dinner.

\- Good luck… - I whispered, liking how honest my wish felt. I couldn’t stand the looks of Marcurio, however, and had to hide my face behind my hands. It was already hard enough to not groan.

\- That’s what I call being lovestruck – He teased.

\- Please, keep your voice down.

\- Haha, I will, I will. I prefer to keep your secrets until it’s useful to reveal them – He chuckled when I put my tongue out, peeking between my fingers – Hey, they are talking now.  
Don’t you want to hear?

I did. I kept my back turned, to don’t look creepy and don’t pressure neither Karita nor the father. She was explaining to her father how the tales old Frida told fascinated her, and she always wanted to experience adventures like they did when they were young, and even visit the Bard’s College and live where her mother has lived. Now, an outsider had the courage to help Dawnstar breaking the curse of the nightmares, and she couldn’t help but think that it could have been one of them. Maybe her. And he seemed better, now. He seemed able to move on and be happy, just like her mother would have wished for him.

\- So… I know it’s sudden, but do you think I could be an adventurer? Travel the world, bring my music to the people, and help them?

\- Karita… I… - The father seemed reluctant, and I was on the verge of praying to the gods to make him accept, but he soon revealed to be simply worried and not opposed to the idea – want to see you happy, and I think you deserve to make your own life. But it’s dangerous for a girl to be traveling alone, especially because I failed to teach you how to defend yourself – He caressed her face, and she smiled dearly.

\- Don’t worry, father. I’m not a little girl anymore. Besides, I’m not going to travel alone. I’ll go with our hero.

\- Then, I wish you all the happiness and luck, and that your travels bring you safely and constantly do Dawnstar – He returned her endearment - Go make your preparations, you’re dispensed from your tasks for today. But you’re wrong in one thing: You will always be my little girl.

Marcurio and I went to sleep soon after a meal and a bath, to compensate for the lack of sleep of the previous night and rest from all the fighting of today. When we got up the following day, I decided to only dress my armor after breakfast. This way, Karita could see my face and normal clothes properly. She joined us at the table, and I could see she was actually well prepared: She had some leather armor pieces over her travel clothes – a pale green shirt, brown leggings, leather boots and a deep green cloak she had on her lap to wear later – and she had an arrow and quiver. Her main bag was full, and I made a quick checklist for her to ensure she had at list something to help her lit a fire, a bowl and a spoon, travel food, water and remedies. She had everything. She also had a satchel and a short dagger at her belt, a flute and her lute to bring on her back.

She asked questions about where we were going and what were my plans, and I told her I had, after being forced to spend a lot of time in Whiterun due to an injury, decided to wander to parts of Skyrim I hadn’t yet visited, so I didn’t have a specific destination in mind. Now that I visited Dawnstar, the closest location was Morthal, but I could possibly stop on a certain cave – what I had in mind was the task the Greybeards asked of me – and we had plenty of time to train her during our travels. She also asked what was the relationship between us, and I introduced Marcurio as a charming mercenary mage that insisted I should take him on my travels, and from then it had been hard to get rid of him. That made her laugh.

When we finished, her father called her. He gave Karita a golden necklace with an emerald, and from what I heard, it belonged to her mother. She hugged her father and they said their goodbyes, he practically crying, she with tears of joy, both proud. She was so… alive.

When I was fully armored and Marcurio too, we went to the exit, and saw her already with her cloak on.

\- I see you are ready – I commented.

\- Almost – Despite what she said, she put the bag and lute on her back, starting towards the door – But there’s something missing.

\- Which is?... – I raised an eyebrow and followed her.

\- You haven’t told me your name.

Oh. Of course.

\- Talos. A pleasure to meet you – I winked, making her laugh – And another thing… - Guided by impulse, I got even closer to her as soon as we crossed the door, and leaned to whisper on her ear – I’m the Dragonborn.

I had no regrets.


	15. A friend

\- Open your body at a 45-degree angle, more like this – I showed the position to Karita, gripping my sword with both hands – your left foot ahead of your right. Yes, like that.

\- There are so many things to remember!... – Complained Karita, for what was like the tenth time since we started her training a few days ago. She lowered her sword, and I decided to not tease her this time. She was probably tired.

In the beginning, she was a quite enthusiastic learner, and I was an enthusiastic teacher. I tried to teach all the fundamentals about the posture, and to make her practice the 8 different angles of attack, and explain, showing, the difference between a block, an attack, and a parry. Her balance wasn’t bad, but her lack of strength started to discourage her. I insisted that she would gain strength with time, and reassured her that not all opponents would be as muscular or experienced as me (of course, others would be better than myself, but I didn’t let her dwell on that fact). I supposed living in an inn all of her life and singing about heroes made her romanticize what this adventure would be like, and confronting the harsh reality or realizing that she wouldn’t get far without extensive practice was discouraging.

I stood where I was, seeing how she put the sword I let her borrow on top of her belongings and crouched to kindle the fire. Marcurio raised an eyebrow at me. I sighed, and approached Karita again.

\- Maybe I’m trying to show you too many things at once – I admitted, sitting next to her – I’m not sure about the best way to teach you, since I learned on the run first and only later had some masters to fix my technique. At least, from what I remember.

\- What do you mean? – I could see I picked her curiosity.

\- Well… The first memories I have are of months ago, when the attack on Helgen happened. I was taken to Helgen as a prisioner mistaken for a Stormcloak, or a criminal, I’m not sure. They told me I was found trying to cross the border… When a huge black dragon, the first of this crisis, attacked Helgen, I managed to escape amidst the confusion with some other people and, since I knew nothing about Skyrim or who I was, I just went with the flow and had to fight several times to survive.

\- You don’t know why you were trying to cross the border? – She wondered.

\- I don’t have memories of trying to cross the border. By the Nine, I don’t even know my real name!

\- Then Talos is a chosen name? – She was looking at me curiously. I just shrugged – I don’t want to pressure you for an answer, but… why a controversial name when you could chose any other? You’re part-elf, if I’m not wrong, and even amongst the Nords it was outlawed because of the White-Gold Concordat. Didn’t you know that when you chose it?

\- I was starting to discover that, even if I didn’t know with that much detail. I knew enough to realize the name would grant me at least some suspicion. But it was the only name I could imagine myself using. – A doubt occurred to me – Now that I think of it, I never asked if you worship Talos.

\- Which one? – I took some second to process her provoking answer. I blushed furiously, and she chuckled – I’m just kidding! My, aren’t you cute? – I wanted her to stop and to join her laugh at the same time, but I just ended gritting my teeth – Of course, I believe in Talos. But I didn’t dare to worship him in a long time. I also thought it was interesting how despite Talos being referred to as male, you were granted that name despite being female. That was, of course, when I believed it was your birth name… and you were a woman.

My heart started pounding in my chest.

\- You… - I almost felt dizzy, with hope but also fear of being wrong. I brought my knees to my chest – don’t see me as a woman?

\- I’m pretty sure you’re female, though it wasn’t as clear when we first met. And I don’t see you as a man at all – She had regained some of her confidence at this point, and was smiling, yet I couldn’t stop hugging my own legs - But while speaking with Marcurio, I noticed how he refers to you as a “they”, and when we found a traveler the other day, you recoiled when he called you a woman. It made me question if it was right of my part to think of you as one.

I should probably confirm to her that her conclusion was right. At least, I should tell her something. Never had I been so lucky as to have someone understand me this quickly, without demanding explanations, definitions or proof of my part. She wasn’t accusing me of not trusting her before, and she didn’t seem confused. She just wanted to make sure that she was seeing me correctly. So why did I feel this nauseated?

I managed a small nod and prayed that it would be enough.

Karita’s smile was sadder now, as if she regretted bringing the topic up, but it was too late for regrets now.

\- I don’t think less of you for that. I don’t think you are rejecting your femininity or who the gods made you to be. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable – She apologized, and stared at the fire.

\- It’s not your fault – I forced myself to whisper – In fact, no one reacted as well as you. I’m just… a bit tired of having this part of me come as a surprise to others, over and over and over. Sometimes, - I dispersed, and decided to share something I never shared with anyone before – I consider alternatives. Instead of making people confused about what I am, I could try leaving as a woman. And I don’t mean performing what the tradition considers feminine, since I don’t think that affirms or denies the gender of anyone, and here in Skyrim there are plenty of tough women. What I mean is not ever questioning it when other people say I am a woman, neither out loud nor in my mind, and maybe with time I would convince myself. Fake it till you make it, you know?

The blazes were crackling, but the warmth wasn’t enough for my soul, so I added a log to the fire.

\- I don’t think that sounds very healthy – Argued Karita, in a low, soft voice. Then, by the corner of the eye, it looked as if she suddenly started to smile, and I had to look at her properly to be sure – Besides, you’re the Dragonborn. Aren’t you here to break the rules?

\- I couldn’t say it better myself – Marcurio joined us with his singing voice, smirking when he saw us jump. Then, slightly more solemn – Everyone that matters accepts you. Why do you need to prove yourself to the world?

\- I don’t…! – This. This was what was exhausting – I don’t want to prove myself to the world. You live as the man you are, Karita as a woman, and doing that is not proving yourselves to the world. You are just living, and the world happens to let you do that. I just want the same. I don’t want looks of confusion because people of other genders don’t receive them. I don’t want to interrupt my day to be perceived correctly because other people don’t have that burden and…

\- …It’s not fair that you are the only one to do it – Finished Karita for me - I think I get it. Hey, Marcurio? – He still seemed reluctant to let go of his argument, but didn’t insist – Why did you join Talos? You told me you are from Cyrodill and came to Skyrim looking for work, but who found who?

\- He found me first.

\- They found me first – We said at the same time. I blinked, and he just laughted, before explaining – I heard about a traveler that had just came to Riften and had already spoken with some of the more prominent people, who were quite different of each other: the woman who tried to protect the victims of the Thieves’ Guild, the members of the guild, the bodyguard of Maven Black-Briar and the woman herself, and I’m sure you are well-acquainted with her brand – Karita’s eyes widened at the mention of Black-Briar, even more than after hearing about the thieves.

\- Before he speaks too much – I interfered in his tale – You should probably know I have a politic of not judging other people before trying to understand them, nor to do that based solely on rumors. And I joined the Thieve’s Guild as a spy, to sabotage the plans I disapprove, not as an actual member. They don’t know that, of course.

\- That’s quite intelligent, and I confess I didn’t know you were a successful thief – She remarked, and I almost bit my tongue.

\- “Successful” is debatable – Joked the mage – But the fact that they were causing a fuss in the city, on the other hand, is indisputable. So I decided that they had great potential as a master, and decided to look for them. I had just made that decision and was about to start my search when we met. When I realized my luck, I didn’t waste any more time and offered my services and charm for hire. – I loved how easy it was to make the bard laugh, and in particular the laugh lines around her mouth and eyes – Now it’s my turn to make questions: When you sang “The Dragonborn comes” in that first night, did you have any idea Talos was the Dragonborn?

\- Oh, no – She waved a hand – I was just reminded of the song because of what Talos told me. The Dragonborn was a legend that my mother always believed in, and she taught me the song to believe as well. I thought it fit perfectly in the narrative of a person that wasn’t a hero by choice, but… I never imagined it was you – Her eyes were shining.

\- Honestly, some of the times when I was a hero was by choice – I clarified - But I only choose to help specific people, not the whole world. I… have no idea of how I’m going to fight the return of the dragons, truth be told – I sighed – I hope to not be a disappointment.

\- Because you don’t know how to deal with such a huge task? Of course you won't be a disappointment, no one in your position would know what to do! – She stated strongly.

\- My, aren’t you enthusiastic? You’re taking my place! – Protested Marcurio, giving Karita a light push. She pushed him back and he retaliated by holding her hand that she used to push him and kiss the back of the hand.

\- Marcurio! – Was the indignant reaction, but I joined his laughter – Well, if you are both so intent on having fun at my expense, maybe you don’t mind cooking today’s meals.

\- Please no, you’re a much better cook than the mage – I dramatized the plea by getting on my knees and bowing at her feet.

\- You are even worse than me, and you know it! – He responded, and I couldn’t deny it.

\- In that case – Continued Karita, unfazed – that’s even more important that I teach you, right, Talos dear? Take it as repayment for your fighting lessons.

I actually accepted. Maybe that way when I returned to my daughters I could make them a surprise. Karita was a patient mentor, and lunch was quickly ready. I served a rabbit stew with a few roots and vegetables we still had, and the flavor wasn’t that bad. We also toasted the bread – not travel bread, but typical white bread we had brought from Dawnstar that was already hard – to accompany, though Marcurio preferred to soak it in the soup. We had porridge for breakfast in the morning, something I never ate before and loved, so I asked Karita if she could teach me how to make that tomorrow. It’s not that I didn’t feel clumsy or a bit lost while cooking – how was I supposed to know how much salt was necessary, how much water, when the ingredients were cooked enough? – but she also felt like that when I tried to teach her how to fight. I didn’t expect her to be a great warrior, or myself to become a good cook, both because of our natural inclinations and our past experience being too great a gap to jump over. But we could learn the basics of those useful skills, and there was something sweet in sharing our struggles and getting help without feeling judged.

After lunch, we traveled again for some hours before stopping to train Karita again. At this point, since she knew I was the Dragonborn, I had already announced to my companions I was going to stop procrastinating and do what the Greybeards asked: Retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, in Ustengrav. It was on our way to Morthal, after all. But our routine didn’t allow us to travel quickly, so a trip of a day and a half was extended for several days, almost a week already. I gave Karita a fighting session at least every afternoon and also tried to teach her how to get more flexible and quick, since those attributes were easier for her to acquire than strength. Every day, but not always at the same hour, I tried to teach her how to hunt as well, both as archery practice and as a way to sustain herself. She was good at following tracks and actually surpassed me at archery, so we started competing to see who could kill our target faster. Or course, we could simply ask Marcurio to electrify the animals, but we both wanted to train and we didn’t want more deaths than necessary, so we limited it to one kill per day, and never big prey. We gave preference to game that could move fast, like birds, rabbits or fish instead of mudcrabs.

Occasionally, we helped some travelers, had to defend ourselves from bandits or were approached by thieves, who quietly backed down when I proved to be from the Thieve’s Guild. I reserved some minutes of the morning to meditate or read, and she, being a bard, was able to answer a lot of my questions about stories, but never linearly. Karita also gifted us with a song or a tale every night. She disliked sleeping on the floor, even when we found a cave in the wind or snowy nights, yet loved the flowers and the scenery.

And the days went by.

* * *

Karita lunged at me, striking while she took a step forward, that I was easily able to riposte. I counterattacked with a parry, maintaining my position while she was forced back. She had gotten better, and was already able to trust her instincts. Of course, I was skilled enough to cover the distance she retrieved in time to jab at her, but I didn’t want to push her too much. Her posture was firm, and she was able to perform basic moves without hurting herself, losing balance or dropping her weapon. It was already good, for someone who didn’t have the urgency and despair I had from the beginning.

I feinted. She fell for my trick, and I disengaged in the middle of my attack, moving in a semi-circle to strike at her in a different area. I got the back of her thigh, not the first bruise I gave her, but she didn’t complain and swirled, counterattacking with a remise. Again, I abused my skils to perform a circular parry, bending my sword in order to catch the tip of hers and deflect it, and followed with something to force her to defend. I started beating her blade continuously, and while she was able to block everytime, I could see her arm tremble with effort to not break under my strength. She was disturbed, and finally her own strength failed, and I defeated her by pointing my sword to her throat.

\- I think it’s practice enough for today – I announced.

\- But… you defeated me, again – She was a bit dispirited when she sat on the floor, to catch her breath.

\- That’s because Talos is being too hard on you – Marcurio meddled in our session, as usual. I had to start giving him more tasks…

\- If this wasn’t serious, her progress would be slower – I stated – But like this, I can say with certainty that she is at least able to protect herself from most foes. Your block was really good, Karita – I said kindly, extending a hand to her.

She smiled softly and accepted my help to get on her feet. I underestimated how exhausted she was, however, since she stumbled on her feet and fell over. I reacted quickly, and when I realized, I had a hand around her waist and was supporting her against my body. But there were more important things than my panicking crush, right?

Marcurio didn’t thought so. He whistled.

\- Shut up! – I ordered him, and heard Karita’s crystalline laugh. I gazed into her eyes – Are you okay? Maybe we should eat and rest before continuing our journey – I suggested.

\- Don’t worry about that, I’m fine – She insisted, but when she tried to walk away, she zigzagged. I stared at her with as much skepticism as I could express.

\- Nope, I think we are resting – I decided.

Without paying attention to my inner shame or to her protests, I picked her in my arms and carried her against my chest to where we had our camp. She struggled and laughed at the same time, so I knew she wasn’t mad at me. It was still morning, and we were extremely close to the location shared by the Greybeards, so we weren’t in a hurry anyway. We rested for about an hour before proceeding.

  
The entrance to the tomb was easy to miss from afar, but up close, it looked like a huge, circular hole on the ground. Some of the stone steps to the bottom were missing, and outside the tomb, we could see bedrolls and poorly covered ashes from a fire.

\- Looks like bandits were here – Marcurio was thinking the same as me – Maybe they are inside now.

\- Well, I’m not worried. I think we can deal with them – The bravado from the bard was perturbing. Especially because…

\- I expected you to wait outside – I said, puzzled – This mission was given to me by the Greybeards, and from the way they spoke, it will be really dangerous.

\- But… isn’t that what I was training for? - Her voice faltered. She looked at me with disappointment in her eyes – How else am I supposed to prove myself, or to become a hero?

\- You’ll have other opportunities! You don’t have to prove yourself right now, and you won’t be able to prove anything if you die, Karita. – “Don’t you know how that would hurt your father?” The thought crossed my mind, but I had no right to manipulate her by saying that. Besides, I was the one that encouraged her to not put what other people wanted or needed above her own needs – It’s already dangerous enough to stay here, other bandits could come…

\- I know that! I know all of that! – She protested, and I realized I was patronizing her – But the Greybeards probably didn’t consider you wouldn’t be alone, and besides, you said I can already protect myself. I should at least be able to stick close to you, right? I won’t do any unnecessary dangerous things, nor will I try to be a great warrior. Let me just see and feel inspired by you two, I’d be happy just by surviving and witnessing something worthy of a song, something no other bard as ever seen – She closed her fists with so much strength, that her knuckles were white - But I need to go! I need to face my fears now, and I need to convince myself that my decisions were the right ones.

\- Okay, okay! – I raised my hands in surrender – You don’t have to beg, I don’t have authority over you. I just don’t want you to do this because you would feel a coward otherwise, screw what the Nords call bravery, most of the times it’s just foolishness. And you know I’m part Nord!

Her gaze softened.

\- Thank you.

\- You’re welcome! – Was the answer from Marcurio, the troll. I just rolled my eyes and instructed:

\- I want to sneak in and observe what’s inside, but be ready to fight if we need.

The first chamber wasn’t much different from a typical Nordic crypt: the walls, ceiling and floor were made of stone, covered by dust and cobwebs. This tomb was better lit than the first I entered, a sign that someone had been here at least recently, and when we proceeded, we found two people patrolling a certain door. 

One of them, with a masculine voice, said to the other:

\- These thralls of yours are slower than Argonians in a blizzard.

Necromancers. In a place full of dead. Well, they sounded like very bored people.

\- Feel free to take a pick and help them out - Answered the second, with a more feminine tone - I prefer not to suffer myself of manual labor.

\- There goes another one - Noted the male, and I noticed the sound of blades clashing echoing in the distance, in the direction the necromancers were looking. I heard a shout, and the sound of bodies and bones falling.

\- Bah! Weak-willed rabble. Even in death they're almost useless.

\- They seem less intelligent each time you raise them. It's impossible.

\- As long as they can swing a pickaxe when you tell them, they're as smart as we need them to be – Then, another scream.

\- You hear that? Those ones must have found something.

\- We'd better go see. These can tend to themselves for a few minutes.

We kept position for almost a minute while they entered in the door they were guarding before. I whispered to my companions:

\- This is probably obvious, but there’s no point in fighting the Draugr if the Necromancers are still alive to raise them again. So I and Marcurio will try to take any that we find down. Don’t forget to pay attention to bandits and traps.

\- While I’m a mage, I’m almost tempted to ask to go in front of you – Added Marcurio – As I told you before, I’m an expert in Nordic ruins. I may be able to detect most of the traps, they are the same almost everywhere.

There were traps indeed, like spikes that activated to anyone who would open an unlocked treasure, tiles that I almost stepped over that activated a column that would descent from the ceiling, and lanterns ready to fall over oil on the floor. I couldn’t help but look behind everytime we got caught in a fight, but Karita, despite the initial horror, was able to protect herself from the dead, and even resisted for a while against a Draugr Scourge that I ended up killing and looting. Finally, I even got my hands on the Ancient Nord Armor again! When she got tired or we were against bandits, she proceeded to hide and shoot them with arrows. Certain chambers were so confusing – with Draugr, Necromancers and bandits fighting all at the same time - that she was quickly panting and sweating. And yet, when I looked at her with worry, she answered with the proudest smile I’ve ever seen.

There were small rooms filled with treasures, with urns full of gold and gems. “You intend to carry every item of value in this room, don’t you?”, asked me Marcurio, right before he noticed health potions and a tome about the Restoration School of Magic that he decided to keep for himself. Karita found a golden circlet with emeralds and rubies, and I was happy to see she didn’t even ask us if she could keep it – she simply put it on her head, because she knew she was entitled to her own findings.

So far, the only dangers specific of this tomb were the intruders and risk of losing our way. This was a complete labyrinth! But we finally reached a heavy door with an inscription saying “Ustengrav Depths”. The area inside was poorly kept, with lianas and roots across every surface, and the air was damp and made it harder to breathe. In there, large pillars have collapsed paths along with them, and as we progressed, we could see how vast the area really was: it was probably bigger than the entirety of Whiterun, even in height, and top of the cave had collapsed as well, allowing the entrance of a shy light. It was already night. We had been here for hours…

There was a waterfall at the bottom, on the north side of the chamber, and a relatively intact path that led down to it. As we descended, I started hearing a calling, rough voices that I now recognized as belonging to the Ancient Nords, and my heart entered in the rhythm of the calling. At the end, besides the waterfall, we found exactly what I was expecting: a Word Wall.

\- What is this? Why is one of the inscriptions glowing? – Asked Karita.

\- It’s a Word Wall! – Exclaimed Marcurio – I didn’t even know they were real…

\- They are. It’s the second time I found one.

\- But what is it? Are you sure it’s safe to get closer? – Karita was persistent, and even grabbed me as I followed the calling.

\- Yes. I have to get closer, actually, to absorb and learn the understanding of the Word of Power inscribed. I think I studied this one with the Greybeards, so maybe I will be able to unlock some of its power even without a dragon soul. It means… - I was really close now, and I squinted my eyes to be able to see in the contrast between the light of the word and the darkness enclosing me – “Become Ethereal”. This is the word “Fade”.

And as I said it, the lights transferred from the wall to me, swirling around my body that quickly absorbed them. I gasped, and felt dizzy for just a second, after which my body actually became stronger.

\- That’s…

\- Crazy – Finished Marcurio.

\- That’s not the word I was looking for, but…

I left Marcurio and Karita behind while they were talking, and got in the lake formed by the waterfall. I had heard something from behind it, unless I was the one being crazy. There was seemingly nothing behind the curtain of water, just solid rock, and yet, my instincts told me to Shout. I lowered all the other voices on my head, and focused on the feel of this new word.

\- Feim!

My body dematerialized.

When I heard the worried exclamations of Karita, I turned to answer, but my voice… well, I had no voice. I could still see the silhouette of my body, but I couldn’t touch anything and it had no organs inside, like I was a ghost. It was a really strange sensation, and despite Marcurio assuring Karita that this was the effect of a Shout and everything was fine, I wasn’t that sure myself. What if the effect didn’t wear off by itself, what if I needed another word to become material again? But this wasn’t time to worry. I Shouted because I had the sensation there was something on the other side of the waterfall, inside the rock, and that was exactly where I went.

As I expected, there was a room inside the rock, with a skeleton sitting on a throne and a chest at the end of the chamber. Sadly, I couldn’t pick the treasure without physical hands, but there was a lever in the wall from where I came, and I was sure it would open a passage under the waterfall. I just had to wait for the effect to wear off, pick the treasure, open the secret passage and get out.

Suddenly, the skeleton woke up.

I panicked when I couldn’t grab my own sword and the Draugr’s axe was aimed at my body, but it ran across me. I smiled arrogantly at him. Then, the effect chose that time to wear off and I could swear it was the Draugr’s turn to smile.

\- Fus Ro!

I sent the skeleton flying with the force of my Shout, and the impact against the wall scattered the bones in every direction. "My throat... is a bit sore", I noticed. Mentally shrugging, I proceeded as I planned and shared the treasure with my companions.

When we were sure the path we had to follow wasn’t connected to the waterfall chamber, we attempted to retrieve and search on the levels above. We found a corridor barred with three gates, and the key to open them was to stand in proximity to three stones, that glowed when we were detected. The problem was that the doors were timed, and as soon as we left the stones a certain range, the gates closed again. We made several attempts, but it was just impossible to activate all the stones and get across in time. At least, impossible for Karita and Marcurio.

\- Marcurio, do you remember when I showed you that Shout that got me across a camp? – I asked him.

\- Oh, you are going to use it here? – Yes, and of course he got my point. And the problem with that – But we will have to stay behind to keep the first two stones active, which means you will proceed without us. Looks like Karita won’t have much to make a story about, hum?

\- Hey, I already do! – She protested – More importantly, how will we reunite?

\- Humm, I will have to find a way to exit the tomb – I supposed - You guys can go back as soon as I am on the other side.

\- Search the last chamber for a hidden passageway – Suggested Marcurio – These Nords always hide passageways and connections between different rooms, they probably have something that connects the last one to the entrance.

\- I will. Thanks – I turned to hide my smile, feeling a sudden wave of care for these two that certainly wasn’t adequate on a moment like this.

We did as we planned: Karita stood next to the first stone, Marcurio close to the second, and I near the last one. When the three gates were up, I used Whirlwind Sprint to get on the other side. The last gate, activated by the third sword, closed behind me as soon as I was across. “No way back now”. I waved at them and continued to follow the path. At least the dungeon was cleared and Karita wouldn’t have any more complications, and from this point on, it was impossible that I would find any Necromancer or bandit. Just some struggling Draugr.

After going through a catacomb-like room, there was a room with a large number of pressure-triggered fire traps on the floor. If I had saved the energy for Shouting, I could have Become Ethereal to run across the tiles without a care, but I decided to reserve what I had left for a greater need. So I would just have to discover which tiles activated traps and which didn’t. I found out – by pushing different-looking tiles with rocks – that the traps were denounced by the color of the curved diamond shapes in the center of each. The lighter tiles were safe to step on, so I was able to get across without problems, and even lured a small Frostbite Spider into the traps. At the end, there was a doorway blocked by spider webs, which I cut with my sword. Behind, I found a wooden door, which in turn lead to a gate activated by a chain.

Past that last gate, I found the main chamber.

I knew it was the main one because of how ostensive the decorations were compared to the other chambers, and all of the mechanisms were still functional – for an area unable to be maintained, that said a lot about the professionalism of the mechanisms. There was a bridge connecting the initial area to another platform at the end, and four statues raised from the water under the platforms. They had a strange appearance, a kind of open beak or claw, or maybe a quarter of a moon, at the top, in gigantic proportions. I was afraid that the statues had some kind of defense that would activate when I crossed the bridge, but nothing happened. There was also no Draugr to fight.

  
It was almost anticlimactic.

But when I got to the ornamental support on top of Jurgen Windcaller's grave, I noticed something was amiss. Some candles around the grave were lit, and the lid was slightly dislocated. There was no mistake from my part, since the name of the founder of the Way of the Voice was written in the inscription, but when I looked around, I realized there was a skeleton floating on the water. And on top of the ornamental support for the horn, where the hand of the skeleton should be holding it… there was no horn. Only a note.

I picked the note with stupid trembling fingers.

 _“Dragonborn,_  
I need to speak to you. Urgently.  
Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’ll meet you.

_\- A friend”_

So this was how this person treated friends, hum?

While this tomb wasn’t as dangerous as the Greybeards made it look – maybe they underestimated my fighting skills – it was true this area was accessible only for someone who was able to Shout. So, who could have placed that note? I hoped the message was not a trap, but if it was, I would probably still follow the instructions.

I had important things to find out.


	16. The Blessings of Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breezehome will be completed by the end of the chapter, and is supposed to be imagined like in this mod from Elianora: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1IYsnVqEpc (the version with the children beds in the top floor where some people have an extra alchemy lab instead, like shown here in the last images https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/49347). The room with the baths also has a small area for a toilet and sink, like in this mod: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUAPz3xkSdE

While I fumbled with the keys to Breezehome, I could only hope Lydia wouldn’t react the same way she did when I first visited after some time away. 

\- Here we are. My home – I announced, and kept the door open to Karita. As soon as she was in, I provoked Marcurio by trying to close him outside, but he probably sensed what I was about to do (I was bad at pretending) and stopped me with an arm. Karita didn’t notice any of our exchanges. She was too enthusiastic looking at everywhere but us, so I felt pressed to add – I know it’s poorly decorated, and humble, but it has undergone lots of changes to accommodate my expanding family and we had to prioritize.

\- Humble? It has two floors! – She exclaimed, amazed.

Lydia was more relaxed this time – “relaxed”, in her case, meant her sword was only half-unsheathed when she came to greet us – and I introduced Karita to both her and my daughters.

\- I’m glad my Thane made a new friend – Lydia was getting better at not looking scary and was even able to offer a smile to a complete stranger. 

\- Sure, “friend” is a way to put it – Marcurio noted, and the only reason I resisted to punch him was because that would probably make Lydia understand what he meant, while now she simply looked as puzzled as my children. I caught Karita glancing at me with an expression I wasn’t able to determine – was that a knowing smile, fondness, amusement or suspicion? - but she averted her eyes and answered Lydia with the right amount of formality to please her.

\- It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lydia.

\- The pleasure’s mine - Yeah, she approved.

Someone was tugging at my sleeve. Lucia. She wanted a gift, so I decided to give the girls wooden swords I had improvised for teaching Karita during the first lessons, and promised a great meal prepared by mama by night. Then, they wanted to show Karita around, and I let them – Karita seemed to like to entertain my daughters, and I wanted to show the house to her anyway, so why not let my kids brag about everything I built with my own hands? I used that time to explain how my travels went to Lydia, talk about the mysterious note, and put some food on the table. My plans were to show the city to Karita as soon as we had eaten something, and make a hopefully brief trip to Riverwood still before midday. And I would probably take Lydia with me, since Karita and Marcurio were already better acquainted and deserved to rest. 

That’s how I ended presenting every corner of Whiterun and every person I crossed paths with to Karita, which took longer than I expected, because… well, because the people seemed unable to overreact every time I reentered the city after a few days away. The contrast of my lifestyle with theirs was so big, that it apparently shocked them. 

What I also didn’t expect was for Karita to be so sorry for the state of the tree at the Wind District. She wanted to visit the priests and ask them what was the problem, and since the Temple of Kynareth was one of the few places that we had left to visit, I obliged. 

Danica Pure-Spring was there, attending the ill and injured, with so deep a frown on her forehead that not even her hood was able to shadow it completely. The other priests and apprentices were busy with the same tasks, except for Heimskr that was probably still giving a sermon about Talos near the statue. Even so, after she finished healing a soldier on a table, she came to us, dragging the hem of her tunic through the water around the low platforms, with a round mosaic at the center. The temple was as beautiful as I remembered: the mosaic of a bird taking flight in gold and marble combined with the design over the arcs on the inner walls, whose columns were embraced by ivys. I could see a Shrine of Kynareth opposite to the entrance, surrounded by flowers, and even the stone beds where the sick rested were worked in patterns and forms that resembled nature. I knew there were also rooms for studying and sleeping, small but detailed.

Danica bowed her head in greeting.

\- Welcome, children.

\- Hello, Danica. This is a friend of mine, Karita – I let them regard each other and exchange some niceties – and it’s her first time in Whiterun. She wanted to know more about the tree that is dying, but I don’t want to take much of your time. I see that the Stormcloak uprising has affected your duties…

\- Somewhat, yes. At first it seemed a distant thing, heard only in the idle speech of guards and traders. When the wounded soldiers began to return from battle, I did what I could to help them. As more of the sick and injured came to the temple, my work as a healer became more important than my duty as a priestess – She sighed - I wish only an end to the fighting, so that I can tend to the temple and Gildergreen once more. The goddess's divine blessings have no doubt helped make Whiterun a thriving and prosperous city. After all, it is she who brings rain to our crops and fair weather on the harvest days.

\- I also hope the war reaches an end soon – Agreed Karita - You mentioned something called the Gildergreen. Is that the name of the tree?

\- It is. To the east of here is a hidden grove where the Eldergleam resides. It's the oldest living thing in Skyrim, maybe all of Tamriel – That… really was impressive - Our tree here in the city was grown from a cutting of that tree, planted as a seedling in the early years of Whiterun. You can still feel the glory of the mother tree through it. Even its name is an echo. Disciples of Kynareth could sense something holy in it, and traveled far to hear the winds of the goddess in its branches. Of course, not as many pilgrims these days.

\- Why haven't the pilgrims been coming? – I asked. Her exasperation made me feel dumb.

\- A big dead tree isn't very inspiring if you're coming to worship the divine of wind and rains – Oh… - Kynareth gives life, and we need a living tree to be her symbol.

\- Is there any way to revive the tree? – I had to stop asking for work and excuses to go traveling, I had to…

\- I've thought about that... – She laced her fingers - Trees like this never really die. They only slumber. I think if we had some of the sap from the parent tree, we could wake up its child. But even if you could get to the Eldergleam, you couldn't tap it. Not with any normal metal, for the Eldergleam is older than metal, from a time before man or elves. 

\- What kind of weapon would work? 

\- To even affect it, you have to tap into the old magic. You'll have to deal with the Hagravens of Orphan Rock - She seemed to ponder for a moment - I've heard about a weapon they've made for sacrificing Spriggans. It's called "Nettlebane." The hags are hateful of anything which grows from the earth, that's why they made the weapon strong against the natural world. They terrify me, or I would have gone after it myself.

There was only one thing I could do now, before the hopeful looks of the two women. I chuckled.

\- I'll get Nettlebane for you – Both faces opened in smiles.

\- Your spirit is strong – Asserted Danica - Kynareth's winds will guide your path. 

Orphan Rock wasn’t far from Riverwood, and since the note I found in place of the horn required me to visit the local inn, I would investigate it first and travel from there. I took Lydia with me. She was, after all, the most informed person about my Dragonborn demands, and it was better to have someone to watch my back while I tried to solve this mystery. Marcurio and Karita were also closer to each other than any of them was to Lydia, so they would be more comfortable staying in my house for some hours together. 

I pushed the door to the Sleeping Giant Inn, and shook the dirt from my boots outside. We sported simple clothes, with only a few protections, so that we didn’t stand out, but our bags were full with preparations and armor pieces to later infiltrate the hags’ lair.

Delphine (I believed that was her name, after all, I haven’t seen her in a while) was at the reception, behind the bar. I went to her, sensing Lydia tense up behind me.

\- I'd like to rent the attic room – I simply told her, trying to sound confident. 

\- Attic room, eh? Well... we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the right. It’s ten gold – I reluctantly gave up my money for that facade. For the way the innkeeper accentuated the room I asked for, she clearly knew about what was going on. But could it be her the one who orchestrated this? I remembered how she pressed me for information and saw through my lies when we first met, under the excuse of taking care of her business - I'll show you to your room so you can make yourself at home – She took us there, something really unnecessary, and when she turned, she caught me reprimanding Lydia with my eyes because she already had her hand on her sword. Delphine rolled her eyes - Close the door, then we can talk – Hoping it was not a trap, I let my housecarl obey for me - So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about, or so the Greybeards think. I hope they are right. I think you're looking for this. 

The woman fumbled with something tied to her leg under her skirts and threw it to me. I contained a gasp: It was the horn of Jurden Windcaller.

\- You're the one who took the horn?!

\- Surprised? – She couldn’t look more satisfied with herself - I guess I'm getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act.

\- To be honest, you were suspicious from the beginning, and you clearly suspected me of something as well. But I wouldn’t imagine your face behind this note, that’s for sure. Just like you weren’t sure I was the Dragonborn – I supposed, judging by her previous comment, though she probably wanted more confirmation than the enthusiasm of the folk of Whiterun - which I am. The Greybeards are right. 

\- I hope so. But you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so, or because people believe them. I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Does that make me Dragonborn too? – I assented, agreeing with her logic and doubting my own confidence in what I was. In fact, the test from the Greybeards didn’t require me to absorb a Dragon Soul, only to Shout. Did Delphine also know how to Shout? - Now, follow me.

She unlocked a wardrobe and slid the back wall, revealing a secret passage to a room underground. Me and Lydia followed, closing the doors behind us. Lydia didn’t say a word, but I was starting to fear for the innkeeper if she didn’t start revealing things soon.

\- What's with all the cloak and dagger? – I pressed.

\- You can't be too careful. I didn't go through this trouble on a whim, Thalmor spies are everywhere and I needed to take the horn to make sure whoever appeared here wasn't a trap. And I'm not saying this because you're part Altmer, since I didn't know it would be you.

\- Obviously. Well, at least the horn is unharmed. 

\- Obviously – She tsked - I'm part of a group that's been looking for you... well, someone like you, for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. Before I tell you any more, I need to make sure I can trust you.

\- How do I know _I_ can trust _you_? 

\- If you don't trust me, you were a fool to walk in here in the first place. 

We reached the room at the end, bare of comforts, with simple fur rugs and a candelabrum made of goat horns hanging in the middle of the ceiling. It had an alchemy lab, a chest, shelves with several ingredients, a barrel, a mannequin for training fighting skills and, at the center, a large table covered by a map, a tankard and a book covered in black. When we approached the table, with Delphine on the other side, I saw it was entitled “The Book of the Dragonborn”. Pfft.

Maybe I should have let Delphine talk voluntarily, but I still had questions.

\- You said something about the Thalmor. Why would they be interested in what you’re doing?

\- We're very old enemies. And if my suspicions are correct, they might have something to do with the dragons returning. But that isn't important right now. What is important is that you might be Dragonborn – She planted her palms on the table.

\- And why are you looking for a Dragonborn? 

\- We remember what most don't: that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragonslayer - Who was that "we"? - You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul. Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon's soul?

\- Yes, that's how I first learned I was Dragonborn – So that’s why she needed a Dragonborn instead of a person who simply could Shout. “Simply”. 

\- Good. And you'll have a chance to prove it to me soon enough - She seemed relieved. Yet, I still didn’t understand what she meant by “killing a dragon permanently”.

\- So what's the part you're not telling me? 

She didn’t answer immediately, occupied at making some marks on her map. She pierced me with her gaze, and for half a minute, judged me and tried to find out if I could be trusted with at least this much. 

\- Dragons aren't just coming back, – She finally announced - they're coming back to life – I took some second to process what she said, then gulped. What? - They weren't gone somewhere for all these years. They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now something's happening to bring them back. And I need you to help me stop it.

By absorbing their souls, they couldn’t be reborn even if their bodies were restored. But how were they being brought back? I resisted the impulse to laugh hysterically.

\- Do you know how crazy this sounds? What makes you think dragons are coming back to life? 

\- Ha. A few years ago, I said almost the same thing to a colleague of mine. Well, it turned out he was right and I was wrong – I could almost see the sting of the irony on her face - Look, I know they are. I've visited the dragons' ancient burial mounds and found them empty. And I've figured out where the next one will come back to life. Well, we're going out there, we are going to kill that dragon and you will absorb its soul. If we succeed, I'll tell you anything you want to know.

\- Fair enough. How did you figure all this out? 

\- You should know. You got the map for me, the dragonstone you got for Farengar. And before giving it to him, you didn't bother to hide it when you were unconscious and sleeping in a room here, after getting out of Bleak Falls Barrow, remember? – I nodded. Hard to forget, despite how strange it was to see how everything was connected - I arranged to have Farengar recover the dragonstone for me, before even supposing you would storm that crypts or meeting you. It's what I do – She shrugged – I make things happen from behind the scenes. 

\- The dragonstone really looked to me like some kind of map…

\- A map of ancient dragon burial sites – She clarified - I've looked at which ones are now empty, and the pattern is pretty clear. It seems to be spreading from the southeast, starting from the Jeralls near Riften. The one near Kynsgrove is next if the pattern holds.

\- So that’s where we are headed? 

\- Yes. If we can get there before it happens, maybe we'll learn how to stop it.

\- Doesn't sound like I have much choice. But I agree that it’s a good plan - I admitted, despite fearing the possibility of meeting with another dragon... 

\- I need to get into my traveling gear. Give me a minute and I'll be ready.

\- Oh, you have time. I have… stuff to take care of first – She looked ready to kill me as soon as I said that -I will depart In two days at most! – I assured – And you don’t even have a prevision, so the dragon can be, hum, reborn after several days or it could have happened already. You depended on my visit before. Can’t you wait a while longer?

\- Fine, but come as soon as you can.

\- I promise I will. 

Since we had to make haste, I decided to borrow horses for me and Lydia – the horsemaster was reluctant, but I offered a generous amount of money and told him he could always go to Whiterun to complain about the Thane if I didn’t bring the horses back. We went through a path behind Hod and Gerdur’s house, leading south, that later connected to the road running between Helgen and Ivarstead, that we followed north. 

As Danica had told me, Orphan Rock was the home of a hagraven and several witches and hags who serve her. It was a large pillar of natural stone, full of greenery and nightshades, accessed by a fallen tree bridge. I didn’t want to do that, but we had to kill all of the hags - it was impossible to sneak through their lair. Being dead, we appropriated their ingredients, from the gems next to the Arcane Enchanter, the eggs and plants and insects, everything that managed to fit on my satchel for this kind of stuff. The camp was also protected by bear traps and several Frost Runes, some of which we accidentally activated during the fight, but didn’t take much damage from. The location appeared to have been used to the sacrifice of spriggans, as the body of one was found atop a brazier here, two spriggan heads mounted on sticks next to the tree trunk bridge, and one on an altar. I could only guess that the exquisite blade in the altar was Nettlebane: retorted, with very thin patterns, and a tip so small I couldn’t even be sure where it ended.

We, hum, exhausted the horses on the way back. But they were safe. In about three hours, we were back to the temple.

Danica was busy attending to a pilgrim. The man was dressed in a worn garb and wasn’t exactly young or strong. He looked like a Nord, a bewildered one.

\- What is it... what has happened to the Gildergreen? – I heard him exclaim - I have traveled long here to worship beneath its branches.

\- It was taken by a lightning strike – The priestess explained. At this point I wondered if it was a truth she hadn’t revealed to me, or something she made up to avoid explaining how the war kept her from tending to the tree - Wish I had time to deal with it, but it's hard enough with all these wounded from the war.

\- Please, don't just let it stay like this. It's disgraceful – He sounded devastated, yet I couldn’t help but notice the accusation. Danica probably noticed it as well, for she was anything but patient. 

\- I really don't have time to deal with you right now. Please just let me get back to my work.

\- But this is supposed to be your work.

She turned on her heels and went back to use a healing spell on a wounded. The man, defeated, fell on his knees in front of the Shrine of Kynareth, praying feverously. I approached the priestess and started reporting instead of expecting her to stop and give me her attention. 

\- I have the Nettlebane – I showed the blade to her.

\- Oh… – Her magic failed interruptively - well, I honestly didn't expect you to come back with it, it goes beyond the duty of a Thane. Of course, I'm glad you did! – She was quick to clarify - Now... I don't really want to touch that thing, though. Do you think you could handle the next steps? Eldergleam's sanctuary grove is to the east of here, between Riften and Windhelm, in an area surrounded by thermal ponds. You can use Nettlebane to retrieve some of its sap. Stick it in, give it a twist, and the stuff will just flow out.

The Nord from before raised and approached our little group. I saw Danica tense up and was proud to see Lydia try to support her by adopting an intimidating pose, but he wasn’t going to bother the priestess again. No, he wanted to talk with me:

\- Was I correct in hearing that you were traveling to the grove of the Eldergleam? – He wondered, and I nodded. He smiled nervously, and my brain suddenly started associating his face with a mouse - I am a traveler. A pilgrim. I follow the voice of Kynareth wherever it can be heard, and I've dreamed of seeing Eldergleam for years. Might I travel alongside you? I promise not to get in the way.

\- I don’t mind the company. Can I know your name? – I smiled sweetly. Why would I deny the poor pilgrim the protection of traveling to us to a place he wanted to visit? – I’m Talos. 

\- Oh, Talos, err… - He was a bit lost at my name, but recovered. It was his problem anyway - I’m Maurice. I thank you for your kindness.

\- Well, Maurice, we are in a rush. I have heard that magic can sometimes teleport people, and since I’m the Thane of this city, I thought about asking the court-mage to teleport us to the sanctuary. Is that a problem with you?

\- You what?! 

\- That can be dangerous, my Thane! 

Why was everyone shocked at me? This wasn't even the most dangerous thing I've done!

\- I don’t even know if it’s possible! – I argued – Farengar is famous – Marcurio had battle experience and excelled in the Destruction School of Magic, but didn’t know much besides that - but I’m not sure if he will be able to teleport three people and two horses, that because we will need horses to come back. But it’s safe enough, I read about it, and I’ve done worse things before – I was mostly trying to convince Lydia, who resigned. Gentler, to let her know I was joking, I added – Good to see I won’t have to order you – She smiled back, and I finally turned to the rat-man – So, what do you say?

\- I, hum, will go if it’s not dangerous.

\- Good. Come with me.

Farengar, after a lot of convincing, accepted to teleport us even if it would require him to spend a lot of ingredients strengthening his magic due to the size of the group. I had to reveal to him I have met with Delphine and was in a rush because of her. I asked him to meet us near the stables in a quarter of hour, and took that time to go to my house. We packed what we would need for the travel, changed into light armor (I could finally wear again that Ancient Nord Armor) and tell everyone where me and Lydia were going. Then, we asked the stablemaster of Whiterun for his best horses, that I bought. 

When Farengar showed up, he was extremely rude, eager to send us away, and didn’t warn us that we would feel dizzy after being teleported. But we saved days of travel, and that’s what mattered. 

We still had to walk a bit until we reached the cave, and the scenery was as beautiful as Danica described. There was even a group of hunters bathing in one of the hot springs. But nothing was as breathtaking as the sanctuary itself:

\- I can't believe I've finally made it here – Whispered Maurice, his eyes watering - It's like it was in my dreams. I can almost hear its heart…

I couldn’t even begin to describe it, overwhelmed as I was, and even Lydia let her hand drop from the grip of her sword. “Sanctuary” was the right word: the only signs of human intervention were wooden bridges built between elevations separated by a river, that run around the borders of the entire cave. I could see, hear and smell the freshness of the waterfalls. It represented the only sound, but not the only perfume. There were so many flowers, some unknown to me, that the aroma was stunning. The green of the grass that covered the hills and ground made any other green pale by comparison, and there was moss on top of the rocks near the river. The trees were allowed to grow unchallenged, their treetops full and their roots strong enough to break through the ground, just like the sun rays broke through the top of the cave, so above our level, conferring a mystical aura to our surroundings, a bluish hue to the walls and clarity in our path. 

But nothing could compete with the breathtaking view of the Eldergleam.

The tree grew on top of the bigger hill, almost a rock formation that was part of the mountain, and yet prospered there. It looked like a much bigger, much healthier version of the Gildergreen in Whiterun, with a thick body and branches that almost compressed against the walls and ceiling of the cave, hidden between the pink leaves that contrasted with any other color in the sanctuary. Even more impressive were the tree roots, that punctured through the rocks and blocked the path to the top, higher than any man or mer.

We would have to find a way to get to the top nonetheless…

I shook my head, trying to focus on my task. I couldn’t afford to lose time in contemplation, that was for the pilgrims. Our little group went forward, and we found a dunmer sat on the border of the river, that introduced himself as Sond.

\- Welcome to the Eldergleam Sanctuary, my friend. Kynareth humbles us with her beauty. If you have any questions, speak to Asta.

Asta also welcomed us and explained that no one had been able to get close to the tree for as long as she lived here, at least. There were rumors of a weapon capable of forcing the tree of lifting her roots blocking the path, out of fear, but who would want to harm such a beauty? And that was true, I didn’t. 

But I had to. I tried to climb over the roots first. I was proud of my climbing skills, after all, and with Lydia pushing me up, we managed to get over two of them. But it was exhausting. So I pulled the Nettlebane out and saw how the roots moved away when I approached the blade from them. When Maurice realized what we were doing, he spat.

\- I had no idea you were a man of violence.

Well, at least he didn’t suppose I was a woman. As we got to the top, the tree was more reluctant to open the path and sometimes I had to strike the roots to force them to lift. They finally gave way to the Eldergleam tree herself. Even more beautiful and powerful from this close…

I sighed, and approached the tree with Nettlebane in my hand.

\- What exactly are your intentions in this blessed place? – Asked Maurice suddenly, his voice shaking in accusation.

\- I need a sap from the tree to be able to wake up the Gildergleam in Whiterun – I explained, without looking him in the eye.

The peace-loving monk fell on his knees and lifted his hands, trembling. 

\- You would violate this marvel of Kynareth's glory to fix that half-breed stump in Whiterun? – The disdain in his voice was clear - That's abominable. Barbaric. I'll have no part of this. Why didn't you tell me what you intended?!

\- It also seems wrong to me… - Claimed Lydia, timidly. For the warrior who never hesitated before using brute force to say this, it meant what I was doing was really an atrocity. 

I shrugged, trying to downplay the importance of the decision.

\- Do you have a better idea? – I questioned.

\- Well... yes. There is something – He could have said it sooner… Maurice stopped shaking and got on his feet - It won't repair the tree back at the temple, but we could bring them a new one. I think I can convince the tree to help us.

I wasn’t sure if Danica would like it, but now that I thought of it, for a priestess of Kynareth to ask anyone to harm the gifts of the goddess should have looked to me like a red flag from the beginning. She had to understand my new decision. Otherwise, that would make of her one of the many priests whose actions went against what they preached. 

Maurice run up to the tree, kneeling before it, not in terror like before but out of respect. He started whispering a prayer, a kind of chant that lasted several minutes, and after a solemn pause, he finished with our request. I saw how the tree moved its branches and deposited something in front of him. Maurice picked it as if it was a human baby, with extreme care, and brought it to us.

\- The Eldergleam has blessed us with a sapling – He stated with ridicule amount of reverence, and ceded the sapling to me, who tried to hold it delicately. It wasn’t like the sap I intended, but a baby - You should take it to Whiterun. Danica will want to see that the true blessings of nature lie in renewal, not in slavish maintenance… - A shadow crossed his face, and this time, I almost felt the same way - I believe I'll stay here and bask in Eldergleam's warmth a bit longer. 

\- Thank you for your help – I simply said, and turned to descend the path. I still heard the man say behind our backs:

\- It was my pleasure, friend. In a way, I envy you getting to carry such a direct sign of Kynareth's graces.

Not everyone was so kind. Asta and Sond were somehow aware of what happened, and apparently believed that I have harmed the tree. Or maybe the fact that I forced her to lift the roots through fear was already enough to cause their coldness.

\- Don't come any closer – Told us Sond, close to the exit - I don't want Kynareth to think I'm on your side.

\- Now you can get close to your tree and I didn’t even harm it – I stated as coldly, refusing to allow then to believe lies about me – You’re welcome.

I bowed mockingly and went on my way.

We returned to Whiterun in full gallop the entire travel, and only stopped to exchange horses in farms that had them, so that we could always count with their full energy. We ate on the saddle or during those exchanges, and didn’t sleep. We relied on stamina potions, but even with it, I needed the encouragement of Lydia after the second day of travel when I just wanted to give up and sleep. The woman was fierce, and she would never allow me to break my word. So we reached the Hold in record time, two days of travel indeed, and still had some day hours left, despite the sun having already abandoned the sky. We could meet Delphine in the next morning. 

We dragged ourselves to the Temple of Kynareth and called the attention of a sleepy priestess, delivering the sapling and explaining why we haven’t brought what she asked for. She looked lost, hesitating before picking the gift, and I hoped the travel hadn’t harmed the baby sapling.

\- But... I can't run the Temple without the support of people who are inspired by the Gildergreen – Expressed Danica - How can this little tree bring new worshippers?

\- Maurice told us that renewal is more important than maintenance – I explained softly - If such a devoted follower like himself believes that, probably other worshippers of Kynareth will agree with the stance. 

\- I... – She breathed in, out. Her frown disappeared - you're right, of course. It can be hard to hear the winds of Kynareth when all you hear is the rabble in the temple. Death feeds new life – She announced - I'm sure that, in time, this little sapling will grow into a new Gildergreen that will tower over Whiterun. I may not live to see this little one grow into a new Gildergreen, but I can be remembered as the woman who planted it. I thank you. Thank you, and may Kynareth's soft rains fall before you.

I bowed my head, and left the temple smiling. It is funny how when someone is beyond the point of exhaustion, sleep sounds more appealing than their goals. And me and Lydia needed sleep as much as the priestess. 

Karita, Marcurio and my daughters had prepared us a surprise: They decorated my home. With what money, I didn’t know (I could only wish that nothing in my coffers was missing), but the results were beautiful. I was only sorry that my fatigue didn’t allow me to properly appreciate it. The problem was that now there wasn’t a bed for everyone – even with Marcurio sleeping in the Bannered Mare. So, where would Karita sleep?

\- I can sleep in the inn as well, or in the soldiers barrac… - Marcurio stepped on Lydia to interrupt her offer.

\- Talos’s bed is large, right? – Asked Marcurio – You two could share.

He smiled with all his teeth despite my attempt to pierce him with my eyes, and Lydia, judging by how she blinked and covered her mouth, seemed to finally realize I had a crush on the bard. Karita, who was fixing a flower arrangement that Lydia accidentally messed, looked back to us and smiled.

\- That’s fine for me – She said, and turned to me – Do you mind?

\- I-I… - How could I decline when she framed it so innocently? Of course I didn’t mind letting her sleep, in my bed, with me… but that wasn’t the problem! I controlled myself to avoid blushing furiously, and tried to answer with kindness – Of course not. I mean, we slept side-by-side while we were traveling, and… all of that – I cleared my throat - You can go to sleep first, let me just go wash off the sweat from the travels and I will join you later. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with my smell, haha.

“Fuck”. Why on Tamriel would I mention my stink from the travels?

I never took so long to leave the bath, despite being exhausted. That because I was nervous to join Karita on the bed. My bed. 

Yet I was so tired that my mind was unable to worry for long, and I surrendered to sleep as soon as I got under the matters, barely appreciating her figure at my side. 

Before falling, I felt someone caress my cheek.


	17. Rite of Passage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the most significant changes to the main quest will start. Talos, after battling the dragon revived by Alduin (that no one knows that is Alduin yet), will visit the Greybeards to complete their training and ask questions about the Blades, because they think it’s suspicious that this supposedly heroic order shows up so suddenly and with only a member. They will meet Paarthurnax and ask questions about their destiny, not about Alduin or the Dragonrend, because again, they don’t now about those things yet and I thought it was fitting to arrange more meetings with the leader of the Greybeards and a friendly dovah. The dragon will recommend that they seek for the Elder Scroll too learn about their prophecy and destiny, and only several chapters after – when we already have the elder scroll, do the Diplomatic Immunity quest, find Esbern and learn about the Dragonrend at the temple of the Blades – will be revealed the rest of the conversation with Paarthurnax. I will also connect the main quest with the Dragonborn dlc. It will all make sense, I promise! :)

I woke up with a ray of sun licking my skin. I blinked, taking the light in, and rubbed my eyes. It was already morning, but the sun had a weak warmth. Maybe it wasn’t too late yet…

I pushed myself out of the bed, ignoring the content sigh at my side. Light fingers brushed my wrist.

\- Where are you going this early? – Said Karita’s hoarse voice. I have noticed on our travels that she always woke up with her voice like this. Mornings weren’t her time for singing…

\- I have to go meet Delphine, I promised her, remember? And I have to prepare for a long travel. It’s already late – Getting out of bed, even for an early bird like me, was hard when there were people confortably sleeping around. The touch of her fingers still burned against my skin, and I forced myself to look at her. She had a light lock of hair over her forehead, that golden waterfall spread over the pillow and mattress. We were both in our pajamas, mine a white night shirt over leggings, hers a short pale-green dress. It was so tempting to just go back to bed…

\- Who are you taking with you? – She asked, softly, barely breaking the peaceful stillness.

\- Oh, that. To prove I can absorb dragon souls, I will have to actually do that. And I can’t just go near the dragon that’s going to be revived and absorb his soul. I will have to…

\- Kill him. I see – She concluded in my place. If what crossed her emeralds was fear or surprise, I couldn’t discern, because she was quick to dissemble it – Marcurio is probably a good bet, then. He can certainly stab a dragon when it is in the skies…

\- Yes, I’m taking Marcurio with no doubt, but a bunch of soldiers aren’t often enough to take a dragon down. And I know by experience – I smiled to myself, remembering how difficult it was for me, Irileth and the rest of Whiterun guard – So I think I’m taking Lydia as well. I was hoping… - I secured her eyes, so that she could see the truth in mine – that you wouldn’t feel left out, and that you could take care of my daughters.

\- Well, I… can’t say I want to fight a dragon, to be honest. I’m not that desperate to prove myself – She joked. I was going to say she had already done it, but Karita continued before I could – However, I would love to witness what you’re about to do. Just imagine it: a song about a dragon that revives the others and the great Dragonborn that appeared to revoke his efforts! Or, maybe… - she sat suddenly, wide-eyed – that helped him in his efforts! What if by taking another dragon soul, you are actually prolongin its life? Or what if the dragon reviving the others wants you to kill them, maybe to give their souls to you and make you stronger?! – She kicked the blankets to the feet of the bed and got up quickly, looking for her lute. I laughed.

\- I don’t think that’s how it works…

\- But most people can’t tell a lie from the truth, and I’m a bard. I want to swipe their hearts, not tug at their brains.

\- Karita! – I exclaimed – I never thought you could say something like that! – I pretended to be shocked, but of course she knew it was just a pretense and joined my laughing as she sat on the bed. My face was already hurting, and yet I couldn’t stop smiling…

\- Maybe it’s better that I don’t go – She added – I already have songs to compose, right? I will try to have one ready when you return, the travel should take several days, so… - She played some tentative cords.

\- If I heard that from any other bard, I would forbid them – I said, and realized it wasn’t exactly a joke. She smirked and caught her hair behind her ear, and unintentionally, I tried to mirror her. My hair was still quite short, but already long enough to almost look like I had bangs - I’m glad you’re not mad.

\- Oh, but I am mad. I never said I’m going to compose a good song… - Err, my face definitely hurt. It was almost a relief when she stopped smiling herself, forcing me to get more serious. She looked lost in thought – Is it… easy, for you, to kill a dragon? Since you’re the Dragonborn.

\- Easy? No, quite the opposite. I’m not granted any special ability to kill dragons more easily than other people, and the Shouts, or at least those I learned so far, don’t seem particularly useful against a dragon – I explained - It’s as I was telling you before: even working with other soldiers, it was really hard to kill my first dragon – But she shook her head.

\- That’s unfortunate and really according to what you told me before, but not what I was asking. What I wanted to know, is if it doesn’t weight on your shoulders to know you are killing your own kin. Because you have dragon blood, right?

I couldn’t avoid it. I straight out cracked.

\- Hahaha, oh, by the gods…! Oh, Karita, I’m the least qualified person to tell you about the mess that must be my blood. You’re right: it’s what a Dragonborn supposedly is. But I don’t think even the Greybeards know how Dragonborns are made, and when I’m already, as far as I know, part Altmer and part Nord, it’s hard to imagine where the dragon blood fits – She smiled, but I understood that she really wanted an answer to her question – And… I can’t say I care much about blood. I mean, I do. I would like to find out about my lineage, and I think about that a lot, but as a matter of my past. Family, kinship… those things are more than blood to me. While I regret to kill such majestic beasts, if they attack me first, they are my enemies, not kin. My blood, my past… that will offer explanations to how I came to be, and shaped a big part of who I am, certainly. But my future depends only on what I choose to do… - I suddenly remembered Irileth, and the reason why everyone admired her was again clear to me – And I will do the best I can with what I have.

Then I felt like I had no more words to offer, and realized how dramatic I sounded. I confronted Karita, feeling my face hot, and noticed a discreet blush on her cheeks. She regarded me with kindness:

\- That’s an inspiring answer – She whispered, to not disturb the silence that fell again when my words died – Lovely, even – She was able to make me reciprocate the tenderness of her looks.

\- Do you know what else is lovely? – I asked, pointing with my head to the ivys around my Shrine of Talos – The surprise you prepared for me and Lydia. My house is beautiful, Karita! I don’t know how you afforded the rugs and certain decorative pieces, but I don’t know how to repay the trouble of preparing and putting in place all of this.

\- Your admiration is enough. We bards live for our reputation, as I believe I already told you.

I liked that adventurous, mischievous, flirtatious side of her. She wasn’t shy, neither from danger nor from feelings, and her ability to turn fragile conversations into empathy or sassy comments lost my mind, and I was starting to enjoy feeling lost. I got up, made a mocking bow like a man, and offered my arm.

\- Can I treat you to breakfast, fine lady? – I asked, and she got up and bowed graciously, joining the play.

\- Thank you, my dear.

So we descended to breakfast, arm in arm, and found the entire house with their mouths stuffed already reunited around the bar, Marcurio and even Lydia ready to receive us with some knowing looks. I would have to bear it. At least, I wasn’t going to bear it alone…

* * *

Delphine wasn’t happy with our delay, but she was practical enough to know that if we were to argue, it would be after we were on our way, not before, wasting even more time. We all went mounted on horses, which I regretted, because for someone unaccustomed to mount frequently, these past days of being upon a saddle were starting to torture my thighs.

We took almost four days to reach Kynesgrove. Any attempt from me, Lydia and Marcurio to include Delphine in our conversations was frustrated, and I had to praise Marcurio’s patience – he tried everything, from joking, sharing information about our little group to make her more at ease, impress her with magic tricks and even compliment her, that she took as indecent flirting and roasted him for it. I tried to tease him, but Lydia was the first to understand he needed consolation, not humor. At least, his ego did. On the other hand, Delphine seemed to approve my housecarl’s professionalism, her technical questions and observations about the best places to camp and strategies to defeat a dragon. For my part, I tried to not think on what awaited us. “Maybe the dragon was already revived and we won’t have to fight him”. But I didn’t want to hold too much onto hope. Nor onto fear. Thinking about the possibility of dying was out of question.

Finally, we sighted small wooden houses with straw roofs halfway to the top of the hill.

\- No, you don't want to go up there! – Came a shout from the closest building.

The door of the inn opened seconds later and a distraught woman, probably a resident, came running to us. She fought to breathe before explaining what afflicted her.

\- A dragon... it's attacking!

\- A dragon is attacking Kynsgrove?! – I gasped in shock. I hoped the dragons had no business with the people…

\- Well, I don't know. Not yet... it flew over the town and landed on the old dragon mound! I don't know what it's doing up there, but I'm not waiting around to find out!

\- You were a great help. That dragon is exactly what we came for – Said Delphine, and ignoring the confused woman, started riding towards the mound, expecting to be followed. I exchanged a look with Lydia.

\- We are strong fighters. We will do what we can for your vill….err, town – I offered the woman, trying to not offend her.

\- If we take too long, seek refuge – Counseled Lydia.

We continued to travel up the hill towards the burial mound indicated by the woman. We had to dismount – the horses were unable to continue on that path. Between the rocks and the pine trees, we finally saw it: A Dark Dragon, much bigger than the one that I fought before, flying over a circular, enormous grave.

\- Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! Slen Tiid Vo! – He proclaimed.

There were no doubts: he was performing a ritual to bring a dragon back to life. We were all crouched in our hideout, and the thought of trying to attack that monster didn’t even cross my mind. He Shouted, and an earthquake was felt. I tried to hold Delphine, but the woman shook my hand and was perfectly able to keep her balance – the old “innkeeper” was proving tougher than I initially believed, a fighter besides being cunning. “This is not the time to suspect my allies.” When I squinted to see better what was happening… the top of the grave had collapsed, and a skeletal form of a dragon was emerging from the burial mound.

None of us dared to breathe.

The smaller dragon looked at the one that resurrected him, and suddenly I saw the flashes and colored rays that I always saw when absorbing a soul, surrounding his skeleton. It was regenerating his body, his muscles, his scales. Marcurio cursed behind me.

The smaller dragon spoke to the dark one:

\- Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?

Without previous warning, the Dark Dragon looked at us. At me. I could feel its gaze capturing my pounding heart, for it was as I feared: This was the same dragon I have seen at Helgen. And the same dragon that had been tormenting my dreams… I recognized his blood-stained eyes and the golden scales under them and around his claws and spine. And his hunger for destruction. Karita’s hopeful words fell from my mind – whatever was this dragon’s goal, he didn’t want to help me.

The other dragon, whose name was Sahloknir – I was sure of it – followed his gaze. Only when I heard the buzzing of Marcurio’s spells ready on his hands I realized I had uncousciously unsheated Whiterun’s axe, that I was holding as if it weighed nothing. The Dark Dragon spoke to the other.

\- Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir. – Then he looked at me again - Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. You do not even know our tongue, do you? – I gulped. They could speak our tongue?! And he had directed his previous words at me, realizing I couldn’t do the same… I felt suddenly ashamed for not knowing anything about my dragon blood, and furious at my own judgment because I knew this dragon’s expectations were unfair. And why would I care about what my enemy thought of me? - Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah. Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.

And without any more words, the Dark Dragon started ascending in the air, beatings his wings without turning to gain altitude, and then flew away without sparing us more consideration.

It was Sahloknir’s turn to speak to me.

\- My lord Alduin requires your death! – I had only a few seconds to process that the Dark Dragon was Alduin, and connect that to the World Eater of the Nordic legends. I flexed my knees and prepared for battle – I am glad to oblige him. My Voice has been silent for too long!

And yet, the way he entered into battle would be comical, if I didn’t know he could Shout at us at any moment: he crawled in our direction, using the tip of his wings where they folded to pull his body forward. His members were still weak and his movements heavy.

We had no time to lose: avoiding his mouth, I approached him by the sides and tried to slash his scales, trying to remove them. I knew by experience that they were practically impossible to pierce. Lydia quickly joined me, and Delphine, not as strong but faster than we were, aimed at the other side, avoiding the dragon’s attempt to get rid of us and his mouth. Marcurio distracted him with his magic and threw ice spikes at his face. I was sorry that our presence limited what he could do, otherwise I could imagine fireballs and shock flying from his hands.

It was hard to attack the same area several times when he kept moving, but I managed to get some scales off. I resisted the temptation to cover my ears when he roared, protecting Lydia who was ready to stick her sword through the exposed skin. But my efforts were futile. The dragon kicked with such a strength that sent both of us flying, and I landed on top of Lydia, who gasped with the impact.

\- Dragonborn!

\- Talos! Lydia!

Their screams forced me to prove I was fine, so I struggled to get up quickly. It was just in time: Sahloknir was aiming at us, ignoring the other two as one ignores flies.

\- It’s to be a real fight, then. Good! – He said, and opened his mouth – Iiz Slen Nus!

I barely managed to pick up Lydia and stumble out of the way of a blast of ice. It got one of my legs. I groaned, but I continued, jumping with one leg until I got closer to a big rock and rolling with Lydia on my hands to behind its cover.

\- My Thane, you’re hurt! – She exclaimed, despite being much worse than me.

\- Not hurt, my feet was just frozen and I couldn’t move it. But it’s melting already – I assured her – I’m going to join the fight. Do not go back unless you are well enough.

\- But…

\- It’s an order!

I scrambled to get up and got to where the others were. They didn’t waste the opportunity I created: I could see an ice spike buried in the dragon’s meat, just not deep enough, and Delphine slashed one of his legs. But they couldn’t do much when he started flying. Even the fluttering was enough to lift the dust and force them back. At least now Marcurio could use Destruction spells without the risk of hurting anyone, and he sent a huge fireball, the biggest I’ve ever seen him use, followed by a continuous dual-cast of a shock wave.

But even if he had the reserves, and I suspected he didn’t have many more magika, Sahloknir wouldn’t allow him to continue attacking unchallenged. Marcurio was forced to interrupt his attack and switch to a ward that covered him and Delphine, who approached him to help him concentrate on a smaller area. “Unless someone stops the dragon, he will just continue Shouting until Marcurio can’t hold the shield any longer”, I realized, “And then…”

I had to do something. What I would give for a bow or magic… The only thing I could do to target something far from me was… “Shouting”. I didn’t know if my Shouts could cover that distance, but I had to try.

I concentrated on the two words of power of Unrelenting Force that I knew. Force. Balance. I lowered all the other words and incomprehensible whispers in my head, and focused on the feel of those two words, on lending my soul to them. I became an unstoppable force, ready to disturb the balance of anything that got in my way. I lent my anger, fears and determination to my Voice.

I opened my mouth:

\- Fus Ro!

My voice was raw power, and was able to shook him in his flight. The dragon had to regain his balance, exactly what I took from him, before regarding me with some interest while Marcurio flew to take coverage and restore his reserves.

\- Your Voice is strong… for a mortal. But no match for mine! – Then he Shouted again, this time a different Shout that I’ve already seen the Dark Dragon use – Yol Toor Shul!

Fire Breath. I got out of the way in time, but he wouldn’t just let me flee now that I tried to challenge him. He Shouted another to block the path in front of me, and I was surrounded by flames. I knew how I could still get away. Yet, I wanted to finish this. I remembered his previous Shout, the ice blast. “No. Ice Form”. I knew de first word, Iiz for “Ice”. And I saw how the dragon used it. I wasn’t as familiar with the other two words, but I remembered how my foot was unable to move when it got frozen. I couldn’t imagine anything besides turning flesh into a statue.

I knew Sahloknir was waiting for my move. I returned his gaze. I intentionally remembered the sensation of having my foot frozen, thought of the ice spikes of Marcurio, felt the fire in the burning blue eyes of Ulfric. “I won’t run”.

My time was up. Sahloknir opened his mouth again to incinerate me:

\- Yol Toor Shul!

\- Iiz Slen Nus!

Shout against Shout, fire against ice, our voices annulled each other. He was furious and flew over my head, trying to snatch me with his jaw, but I shouted then Become Ethereal and his body went through mine. I never imagined myself so close to a dragon… Then I traversed the flames to safety and wished my friends luck against that monster.

He landed. The other three did all they could, even Lydia, who couldn’t forgive the risks I took and gave all she had. When the effect of the Shout wore off, I joined the frenzy.

The dragon was getting weaker. When he felt too exposed, he tried to get in the air again.

\- No you won’t! – Screamed Marcurio – Talos, freeze his wing!

Without even questioning or taking time to understand, I Shouted Ice Form towards his wing. It froze. He couldn’t fly anymore. Sahloknir went down with a roar of despair.

When he was on the ground, Marcurio burned his eyes, and the beast got completely mad. Not missing a bit, Lydia managed to get to his exposed flesh and pierce him with her sword. The dragon cried and kicked. I held onto my axe with firm hands and buried it in his open afflicted mouth. Delphine climbed to the back of his neck, like I saw Irileth do once, and sticked her sword through the base.

I could see the tip on the other side, dripping black hot blood.

“Another dragon. Dead.”

And his own soul rewarded me for it, being absorbed by mine. The dizziness, flashes and lack of air came and passed suddenly, and I was left feeling revigorated and my throat healed. The dragon had returned to be a pile of bones.

We all sighed at the same time.

I smirked, Marcurio patted me on the shoulder and he pulled Lydia to a hug after exchanging a smile with her. My heart was fluttering with that image: it was so good to see my friends being friendly amongst themselves…

Delphine, who had climbed off the dragon, nodded at me.

\- I owe you some answers, don't I? – She said in a way of apologizing - Go ahead. Whatever you want to know. Nothing held back.

But it was Lydia the first one to speak. She was still furious, hum?

\- What more do you know about the dragons coming back? – She ordered.

\- More? – Delphine snorted - I don't know a damn thing. I was just as surprised as you to find that big black dragon here. The only information I had was that the burial sites were being emptied, as I told both of you.

\- I've seen that dragon before, the one that got away – I added.

\- Really? Where?

\- It was the one that attacked Helgen, when Ulfric escaped from the Imperials.

\- So you actually escaped Helgen instead of what you told me when we met, as I suspected. Interesting. Same dragon...

\- And the one we killed called him Alduin – Pointed out Lydia, and I agreed internally that it was an important piece of information.

\- Yes, the World-Eater. Maybe we misheard, but let’s not assume anything. If this is the World-Eater, the role of the Dragonborn is even more important than I expected – Then she started to mutter for herself, while cleaning her blade on the grass - If I had more members of my Order alive, senior members, I’m sure they would have more information… Damn it, we're blundering around in the dark here! We need to figure out who's behind it all!

\- Slow down a second – Interrupted Marcurio, going to stand between us – I’ve already heard that name before in your Nordic legends, but can you refresh my memory and explain why is it so important that the dragon is called Alduin? – We threw him a judging look – What? I’m from Cyrodill, I don’t have the obligation to know about your legends! Besides, I’m already too good in many things, it would be unfair if I was perfect – I sighed, preparing a brief explanation.

\- Well… Many countries believe that Alduin is the same entity as Akatosh, but the Nords believe otherwise. While Akatosh is the Dragon God of Time, Alduin is the World-Eater, destined to devour the world at the End of Time. Some people also mention Auriel as the Beginning of Time, the opposite of Alduin. So, their concepts are related, but they are not the same. What matters is that, if the dark dragon is Alduin, and we don’t stop him… he is going to destroy the world – I made sure Marcurio was satisfied with that answer (his gloomy expression seemed to indicate that at least he wouldn’t joke about this) and turned to Delphine – You mentioned your Order again. Who are you really, and what do you want with me?

\- I'm one of the last members of the Blades. A very long time ago, the Blades were dragonslayers, and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest dragonslayer – She revealed. So, that meant I was going to command them? “I’m being a fool. This woman clearly doesn’t think I have power over her” - For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn Emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. Now that dragons are back, our purpose is clear again. We need to stop them.

\- Never heard of the Blades before – I stated, unsure as to why I never read about that Order, and Lydia and Marcurio shared the same confused look.

\- Exactly. Nobody even remembers our name these days. We used to be known across Tamriel as the protectors of the Septim Emperors – She sounded exasperated and nostalgic - Those days are long gone, though. For the last two hundred years, we've been searching for the next Dragonborn to guide and guard, as we are sworn to do. But we never found one. Until now.

\- I suppose I'm going to trust you. What's our next move?

\- The first thing we need to do is figure out who's behind the dragons. The Thalmor are our best lead. If they aren't involved, they'll know who is.

The Thalmor was the faction that ruled the Aldmeri Dominion, mostly composed of High Elves. They were the ones who almost destroyed the Empire during the Great War, thirty years back. The Empire barely survived the last war, thus why the Emperor agreed to sign the White-Gold concordat and ban the worship of Talos, at the Dominion’s order. Despite the peace treaty, the war continued on, but it was a religious battle, and a battle to defeat the Stormcloaks and all those who resisted. It wouldn’t be that surprising if the Thalmor wanted dragons fighting on their side…

\- Speaking of, why are the Thalmor after you? – Questioned Lydia, something I had almost forgotten from our previous meeting with Delphine.

\- Before the Great War, the Blades helped the Empire against the Thalmor. Our Grand Master saw them as the greatest threat to Tamriel. At the time, that was true. Maybe it still is. So we fought them in the shadows, all across Tamriel. We thought we were more than a match for them – She looked into the distance - We were wrong.

\- Still, what makes you think the Thalmor are bringing dragons back? – I wondered, hoping that the woman wasn't simply being paranoid and putting her life before the rest of the world - I get they want even more power, but they aren’t the only ones. Why not the Stormcloaks, for example? It would make sense, since Alduin is involved and he is a Nordic legend…

\- Nothing solid. Yet. But my gut tells me it can't be anybody else. The Empire had captured Ulfric. The war was basically over. Then a dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes, and the war is back on. And now the dragons are attacking everywhere, indiscriminately, which Ulfric wouldn’t want. But the fact that the dragon helped him escape would make it easier to put the blame on the Stormcloaks… and continue taking Nordic lives. Skyrim is weakened, the Empire is weakened. Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?

\- That makes a lot of sense – Noted Marcurio. I and Lydia agreed.

\- So we need to find out what the Thalmor know about the dragons. Any ideas? – I asked, predicting she already thought about that.

\- If we could get into the Thalmor Embassy... it's the center of their operations in Skyrim... problem is, that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse. They could teach me a few things about paranoia... – I almost laughed at her choice of words. Well, guess she wasn’t paranoid after all, or at least not like the Thalmor.

\- Then how do we get into the Thalmor Embassy?

\- I'm not sure yet. I have a few ideas, but I'll need some time to pull the thing together... I'll send you a note when I have a plan, it shouldn't be long. – She looked at the horizon, and I followed her gaze. The sun would set soon - Keep an eye on the sky. This is only going to get worse.

* * *

We didn’t go immediately back to Whiterun. I had something to deliver to the Graybeards, and hopefully, they could answer some of my questions upon seeing I passed their test. Lydia was quite happy to be back, while Marcurio was interested but didn’t share the excitement of a Nord. Luckily, we didn’t meet any Frost Troll, and despite knowing how much stronger I was than when I first climbed the 7000 steps, I didn’t look forward to more encounters.

I pushed the heavy doors of the convent, and found Arngeir meditating on his knees in that first chamber. I approached my Master, and took the Horn from my satchel, presenting it to him, no unnecessary words.

\- Ah! You've retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller – His eyes shined with pride, and he slowly got up. He greeted Lydia and Marcurio by slightly bowing his head - Well done. You have now passed all the trials. Come with me. It is time for us to recognize you fully as Dragonborn

He took me to the center of the chamber, and with a Shout I recognized from when I was training, he invoked the other Greybeards. They all came to meet us, on their own rhythm. Each of them occupied a vertex of the central losang carved on the floor of the chamber. Argneir turned to me again.

\- You are ready to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, "Dah," which means "Push." With all three words together, this Shout is much more powerful. Use it wisely. Master Wulfgar will now gift you with his knowledge of "Dah."

Master Wulfgar imprinted the Shout on the stone, and I absorved his understanding. It fit perfectly with the other two words of power. I awaited for Argneir to instruct me further:

\- You have completed your training, Dragonborn. We would Speak to you. Stand between us, and prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards, so your friends will have to wait outside. But you are ready.

Marcurio rolled his eyes before leaving, and Lydia seemed sincerely happy for me. I wasn’t so sure as to what feel myself. I was proud, I knew this was important, and my curiosity towards the Voice of the other three Greybeards was extensive. But what did this ritual mean? Even with all my training, if this was meant to make me a kind of Greybeard, wasn’t that unfair when I didn’t properly follow the Way of the Voice?

But they didn’t give me much time to think. As soon as I stood in the center of the losang, they started speaking only in Dovahzul, and even the walls and the floor under my feet trembled, my bones vibrated, but I didn’t feel pain. They used words that I didn’t understand completely, but whose meaning brushed against my mind and was what I felt, in my heart.

\- Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok. – It was something about a Storm Crown that finally had someone worthy of it, bestowed in the name of Kyne, Shora and Atmora. And they called me Ysmir: the Dragon of the North. Talos. And Dovahkiin.

Finally, silence reigned again. I looked at Argneir, and realized my eyes were wet. Without delay, he proclaimed:

\- You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you.

It was a bit anticlimactic, but I had to drink a glass of water and sit before doing anything else. The Master of the Greybeards was kind enough to call Lydia and Marcurio back and explain to them I was just resting. I heard Marcurio comment with Lydia that I looked a bit disturbed – did I? – but she was confident that I was tough enough to be fine in a minute. And indeed I was. So I could finally confront Argneir with my questions. I decided to start with the easy ones, about what had just happened.

\- What was that ceremony all about? Were you all Shouting at me? – I wondered, still shaking. 

\- We spoke the traditional words of greeting to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance – So, the words were specific for Dragonsborns and not followers of the Way of the Voice. Good - The same words were used to greet the young Talos, when he came to High Hrothgar, before he became the Emperor Tiber Septim.

\- What did you actually say?

\- Ah – I took the wrinkles around his eyes as a smile - I sometimes forget you are not versed in the dragon tongue as we are. This is a rough translation: "Long has the Stormcrown languised, with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it."

\- Thank you, master. For finding me worthy. Now that my training is complete, I'd like to learn more about the Voice.

\- You have learned so much already, Dragonborn – He put a bony hand over my shoulder, one of the few times I ever saw the Greybeards offering physical contact, and that showed just how serious he was - Growing your gift too quickly would be dangerous. But there are many Words of Power in Skyrim, carved in the Dragon tongue. Even from here, we can feel the Thu'um resonate from them. Finding these lost Words would be a sufficient test, to temper your abilities with experience. We have felt the whisper of some Words. Give me your map, and I will show you the areas where you can search for its echo.

I handled him my map and we went to the library, where he signed some points on mountains with the less ink possible. 

\- Master? I took long to come back here because… well, some things happened and I ended learning more about the return of the dragons – I had his attention – Turns out they are not just returning. They are being revived. Apparently, by a dragon called Alduin.

\- A-Alduin? – Fuck, if he couldn’t keep calm this was really bad news… But he breathed and regained his composure and state of open-mindedness briefly – That may strongly affect your destiny.

\- You said you didn’t know what my destiny was.

\- And I didn’t. I still don’t. According to the prophecy, only the Last Dragonborn can stop the World-Eater. That doesn’t mean you will – I shiver run down my spine, and somehow he seemed to notice it, for he offered me what he could as consolation – Whatever your path, we are here to offer you guidance. Now, tell me: How did you find out about that?

\- I met with a woman that had a map of dragon burial sites and noticed the dragon buried there were disappearing. She took me to fight one that we saw just being revived, to verify I was the Dragonborn, and the revived dragon called the other Alduin – Was I using too many words? No, all of this was important information - Upon confirmation, she told me that she was from an Order that claimed serving the Dragonborn. The Blades.

\- The Blades? So they still exist after all, and continue intent in destroying the dragons! – Wait, what? If the Greybeards could feel intense emotions, I dared to assume Argneir was furious. I never expected to provoke such reaction on him, and this time, he didn’t even try to calm himself - You shouldn't trust them, and you have done well to seek us out. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand, and have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom.

\- Well – I was glad I didn’t stutter - I agree that it was strange for them to show up so suddenly, keep secrets for as long as possible and having only one presenting member... – I haven’t even revealed to the Greybeards that Delphine stole the Horn, and truth be told, I still didn’t know how she accomplished it. But I didn’t want to judge her so soon, nor make Master Argneir even angrier - Still, thanks to the Blades, I found out something new. I may be able to find out more if I help them, but I would also like to acquire information for myself. Do you know anything about that? About the prophecy of the Dragonborn, that you haven't told me yet? – He took a deep breath, seeing reason.

\- Only Paarthurnax, the master of our Order, can answer that question, if he so chooses. He is our leader. He surpasses us all in his mastery of the Way of the Voice.

\- You told me I would meet him when I was ready – I remembered - Since I've gone through the ritual, why haven't I met Paarthurnax yet?

\- He lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain – Oh, right, he had told me that as well - He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege. What I told you was not only that you would meet him when you have undergone the ritual, but that only those whose Voice is strong can find the path. You weren't ready. You still aren't ready – He asserted, and my pride died a little - But thanks to the Blades, you now have questions that only Paarthurnax can answer. Come. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax.

The purpose in Argneir’s pace was enough to make all the other Greybeards accompany us to the patio, and even Lydia looked worried. We ripped the snow apart with our feet, until we reached a steel gate that blocked a path up the mountain, that I never noticed before. The master turned to me:

\- The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate. I will show you how to open the way, by granting you my understanding of Clear Skies. Clear Skies will blow away the mist – Indeed, I wasn’t surprised that I never saw the path before, covered as it was by the mist. It seemed dense, capable of freezing the breath of any living creature and sending someone on their way to a long fall - but only for a time. The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit – Then, he Shouted to the Snow - "Lok Vah Koor..."

A complete Shout. As I absorbed it, I understood the respective words: “Lok” for “Sky”, something I never dreamed to become. “Vah” for “Spring”, “Koor” for “Summer”. I could see how those seasons implied a clear sky. The words were bubbling in my mind. When I came to my senses again, the gates were already open. All of the Greybeards were looking at me.

\- This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn – Stated Argneir - Use it well.

I bowed solemnly and went on my way, trusting my friends to follow me.

I noticed that even getting closer to the mist was dangerous. Not only made it hard to breathe, it was like swallowing a bunch of tiny ice spikes. The Shout felt strange. It didn’t make me immaterial like Become Ethereal, yet understanding Sky allowed me to sense something similar, while feeling the warmth of the sun and the perfume of the spring. The climb to the top required me to Shout incessantly, because the effect of the Shout didn’t cover a very wide range and was quickly over, but I was starting to get the hang of it. “I don’t know why he thought I wasn’t ready. This isn’t so hard”.

Soon I discovered that maybe what The Greybeards meant was that I wasn’t ready to Shout so many times in a row, because it not only left me exhausted, it also left my throat raw. But the sight of this climb was so mesmerizing, that it felt like a fitting price to pay.

\- As my Thane, I knew you would take to incredible places, Talos – Noted Lydia when we allowed ourselves to rest on a rock overlooking the land below - But I never dreamt of seeing Skyrim like this.

\- It’s an unforgettable sight – Agreed Marcurio.

And it was. With the mist gone, we could see everything: The rivers reflecting the sunlight, the forest and greenery around, the smaller mountains far away… It was hard to not feel vertigo. But it was also hard to regret the risk. This was a better recompensation than any treasure could ever be. “What would flying feel like?”, I wondered. To get to see any place from this altitude anytime we wanted, and eternalize these pictures in our memory, like a painting… It wasn’t surprising that Dragons were arrogant. Besides powerful and long-lived, they also had a unique perspective on the world.

Of course, part of the trip also included Marcurio being relieved for finally being able to make his stupid or sassy comments. He had been afraid to pronounce a single word around the “old men” – Lydia reprimanded him for saying that – and surprised that they could move so quickly. I shared with him that my training in the convent actually included stretches and that The Greybeards accompanied me in some of them, besides some other fun facts. Until I started losing my voice, at least. I could only hope to still be able to talk with the leader of the Greybeards, or all of this would be for nothing.

When we got to the top of the mountain, I almost collapsed on my knees.

A dragon. There was a big gold dragon perched over a Word Wall.

He clearly saw us, but he didn’t attack. I forced myself to act and unsheathe my sword – Lydia had reacted faster than me, and was covering my back. Marcurio also approached me. But the dragon didn’t move, and it felt both reckless and wrong to just charge against him.

Instead, he simply spoke, and his words confirmed my craziest theory:

\- Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik – I was thankful he translated. But, “greetings”? - I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah... my mountain? You have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor... mortal.

I gulped, Lydia gasped, Marcurio said “Fuck”. I reunited my courage and walked some steps, to stay closer to me. In the current state of my throat, it would be impossible to be heard at a big distance.

\- You're the master of the Greybeards? – I asked, frustrated with my hoarse voice.

\- They see me as master. Wuth. Onik. Old and wise. It is true I am old...

\- I wasn't expecting you to be a dragon – I admitted, feeling more confident - But I think you already know who I am.

\- Yes. Vahzah. You speak true. Forgive me, it has been long since I held tinvaak with a stranger. I gave in to the temptation to prolong our speech. I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you... Dovahkiin.

I nodded, hoping it was taken as a kind of bow or sign of respect, not just confirmation. The dragon seemed friendly, but I still didn’t want to offend him - Then, I had to wonder:

\- Why live alone on a mountain if you love conversation?

\- Evenaar Bahlok. There are many hungers it is better to deny than to feed. Dreh ni nahkip. Discipline against the lesser aids in qahnaar... denial of the greater – He dragged his words, that seemed to come from the depts of his body and reverberate. They sounded like a earthquake, even the human words, just like all the dragons I have heard until now - Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?

\- I need to learn about my destiny and the revival of the dragons – I simply put -Can you teach me?

\- Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov. By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin! Yol...Toor...Shul! - He Shouted a blast of fire so strong that I could feel its heat, against the wall under him. When I noticed, he had imprinted the first word of power, “Fire”, and I was close enough to start absorbing it. Could dragons smile? Because I suspected Paarthurnax was smiling right now - A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire as the dov do. Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!

And by impulse, without thinking twice or doubting what my friends would think of me for simply joining this dragon ritual, I opened my mouth and Shouted against the Wall as well. The result wasn’t nearly as impressive as the fire of the dragon, but I was still proud for being able to connect with Fire so quickly. My throat, however, was really sore. Not that I would complain to the leader of the Greybeards…

\- Aaah... yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind – To feel happy after being complimented by a dragon was the weirdest sensation in the world. In a way, I sympathized with him. It should be really isolating, and I almost felt a sense of obligation to learn the language properly so I could make him company. He didn’t waste any more time, however, answering my question - If you seek to know more about your destiny, you should search for the Elder Scroll “Dragon” – I blinked.

\- An Elder Scroll? What's that?

\- Hmm. How to explain in your tongue? The dov have words for such things that joorre do not. It is... an artifact from outside time – It was hard to conceive, but I was starting to get used to the impossible - It does not exist, but it has always existed. Rah wahlaan. They are...hmm... fragments of creation. The Kelle... Elder Scrolls, as you name them, they have often been used for prophecy. Yes, your prophecy comes from an Elder Scroll. But this is only a small part of their power. Zofaas suleyk.

\- Do you know where I can find an Elder Scroll? – That was what mattered, honestly.

\- Krosis. No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I.

\- Hmm. Arngeir, Master Argneir I mean, might have some idea.

\- Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way.

I was almost leaving, but then Marcurio remembered something that was also important and dared to speak to Paarthurnax:

\- What do they do with the Elder Scroll when they find it?

\- Return it here, to the Tiid-Ahraan – Said the dragon - Then... Kelle vomindok – That sounded like a curse in dovahzul, really, not that it was a good sign - Nothing is certain with such things... But I believe the Scroll's bond with Tiid-Ahraan will allow you a... a seeing, a vision of the moment of its creation. Then you will see them... wuth fadonne... my friends, Hakon, Gormlaith, Felldir.

\- Hakon, Gormlaith, Felldir? – Curiosity took the best of me. Besides, how would I see them? - Who are they?

\- The first mortals that I taught the Thu'um, the first Tongues. The leaders of the rebellion against Alduin. They were mighty, in their day. Even to attempt to defeat Alduin... sahrot hunne. The Nords have had many heroes since, but none greater.

And with that, I understood how Paarthurnax came to be the master of The Way of the Voice, even being a Dragon. Not only was he the one that taught the Thu’um to mortals – and how old did that made him?! – he also rebelled against his own species. My respect for this dragon was unrivaled.

\- Since you're the master of the Greybeards, do others come here to train? – I asked, trying to not look overly enthusiastic.

\- I have taught the Way of the Voice for centuries, and the Thu'um since long before that. But no, Dovahkiin. Others do not come here to train anymore – I felt a kind of heavy sadness settle in my heart - Saraan. You are the first in over a hundred years. I meditate on the Rotmulaag, the Words of Power. I counsel their use. It is enough for me.

\- You meditate on the Words? How do you do it, and why, since it’s your natural language? – I asked, concealing how I felt for killing the others of his, our, blood, that didn’t mean much to me but were the only ones with whom he could speak. Even if he said what he had now was enough, and I wanted to respect his decision…

\- Knowing a Word of Power is to take its meaning into yourself. Contemplate the meaning of a Rotmulaag, and you will become closer to that Word, as it fills your inner self. Shouting may be as natural as speaking for a dragon, but only with training does our Voice become strong. Will I teach you, Dovahkiin? – He suggested - What Word calls you to deeper understanding? There are three that you are ready to master: Fus, Feim, and Yol.

\- You just taught me “Yol”, did you not?

\- Yes, but not the second word of Fire Breath: “Toor”. In your tongue, the word “Yol” simply means "fire." It is change given form, power at its most primal. That is the true meaning of Yol: suleyk, power. You have it, as do all Dov. But power is inert without action and choice. Think of this as the fire builds in your su'um, in your breath, and you can quickly learn also “Inferno”. What will you burn? What will you spare?

And when I became Inferno, a part of me drastically changed.

I burned my fears. Now, I was Dovah Talos, and nothing could stand in my way.

\- Su'um ahrk morah – Were Paarthurnax last words. “Breathe and Focus”.

I couldn’t be more focused. Not even my throat bothered me so much anymore, not while I was intent on acquiring information about the Elder Scroll.

Of course, Marcurio tried to ruin the mood:

\- You just talked to a dragon. We just talked to a dragon! - He laughed.

\- I still can’t believe it – Announced Lydia – I was ready to protect you if needed, my Thane, but he was so majestic and calm…

\- You were? – Interrupted the mage - I don’t know if I should charge more for the jobs I'm made to do or consider this a very high and peculiar form of payment. How do you feel about this, Lydia? I’m sure fighting dragons wasn’t in your contract…

\- In truth, it was implicit, since I was chosen to serve the Dragonborn…

\- Oh. That makes sense, yes.

My turn to laugh. Aaaah, I felt so well! I still did when I met with Argneir again, despite having regained my focus.

\- So... you spoke to Paarthurnax – He said, and no one felt the need to point out he was a dragon, despite it clearly being in our minds - The dragonblood burns bright within you. Did he tell you what you wanted to know? Did he teach you about the prophecy?

\- Not exactly, but he told me how to find out – I clarified - I need the Elder Scroll the ancients used, one called “Dragon”. Do you know where to find it?

\- We have never concerned ourselves with the Scrolls – He lamented, and added a reason for it, one that I probably should take as a warning - The gods themselves would rightly fear to tamper with such things. As for where to find it... such blasphemies have always been the stock in trade of the mages of Winterhold. They may be able to tell you something about the Elder Scroll you seek.

\- Thank you, master.

\- Wind guide you.

When we left, I mentally asked Karita to be patient and decided to send her a letter explaining what was safe to write down and about our plans. Maybe I could even send Lydia to stay with my children and take the bard with me to the College of mages - I could imagine the songs she would compose in its honor.

I also reflected on the negative emotions Argneir displayed today. It was strange how he despised so many things – The Blades, the Elder Scrolls… - and yet was overall such a collected person. It really showed the effort he put into following the Way. The Greybeards always seemed disconnected from the World. Now, I was starting to realize how much they knew and felt about it, and how following the Way of the Voice despite that was a hard choice to make. And one I wouldn’t do for myself, even if being a hero also required sacrifices.

I wanted to shape history.


End file.
